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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/iCIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microrepioductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


Th«c 
tothfl 


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Theii 

pOMil 

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ffilmir 


□    Coloured  covers/ 
Couvertura  de  couieur 

pn    Covers  damaged/ 


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Couverture  endommagde 


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TheM 
shall 
TINU 
whici 

IMaps 

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entire 

begin 

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Additional  comments:/ 
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10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

y 

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16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


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TINUED"), or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaltra  sur  la 
dernlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


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filmAs  A  des  taux  de  rAduction  diffArents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichA,  il  est  filmA  A  partir 
de  I'angle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mAthode. 


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^ 


RECOMMENDATIONS. 


—H-^ 


This  certifies  that  for  several  years  the  undersigned  have  been  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  the  Rev.  William  B.  Lighton,  and  have  al- 
ways found  him  to  be  a  man  of  integrity,  in  whose  word  we  could 
rely  with  implicit  confidence.  For  a  number  of  years  he  has  beea 
depressed  by  misl'urtune,  having  lost  the  greater  partof  his  propertj 
by  the  absconding  of  his  debtor;  yet,  his  integrity  has  ever  re* 
mained  inviolate. 

In  pursuing  a  course  of  industry,  veracity,  and  humih'ty  ha 
has  endeared  himself  to  a  large  circle  of  christian  brethren  ami 
the  public  generally.  We,  do  therefore,  cheerfully  recommend  him 
'.0  an  enlightened  community. 

Having  perused  the  interesting  Narrative  of  his  life  and  suffer- 
ings, and  being  fully  satisfied  with  the  work,  and  belisving  it  will  ba 
both  interesting  and  useful,  we  can  confidently  recommend  ittotha 
reading  public,  particularly  the  youth  of  our  courtry,  as  u  work  of 
useful  entertainment.  It  contains  an  account  of  many  extraordinary 
events,  both  of  trials  and  sufferings,  and  is  interspersed  with  many 
moral  and  useful  reflections,  which  renders  it  worthy  of  a  prominent 
place  in  every  family  library. 

JOSEPH  JACKMAN, 
JOHN  CHANDLER, 
JOHN  POOR, 

Rev.  OZIAS  SAVAGE, 
Elder  GEORGE  W.  COGSWELL, 
JONATHAN  BROWNSON,  Esq. 
JACOB  NOYES,  Esq. 
Col.  MOSES  WEBSTER. 
Ju/y,— 1836 


Selectmen 


Dear  Sir— 

I  have  receivad  a  line  fioni  Elder  James  M'Kenzie  of  Boston, 

Pastor  of  the  Freewill  Biptisi  Church  of  that  place,  saying,  that  ha 

has  read   your  Nnrratire  \vh)i  mxirh   intprcet  and  satisfaction;  and 

believes  it  worthy  or  exu;ii.:jivt!  tirmilHtion,       I  heanily  concur  with 


•  RECOMMENDATIONS 

him  in  his  favoralilc  opinion,  and  can  conlially  recommenrj  It  to  th« 
attention  of  every  pnnm  anii  young  person,  as  a  work  calculated 
to  invite  the  atiemion,  and  hciKMit  tlx;  h(nirtt)  ot  its  readers. 

Youra  in  Oosnel  bunds, 

NA'IHANIEL  THURSTON. 
Pastor  of  the  Freewill  Baptist  Church,  Lowell,  Mass. 
LoiecU  Jipril—\8dQ, 


We  the  undersigned,  Miniaters  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
andmennbers  of  the  New-Hampshire  Conference,  do  hereby  certify  : 
That  the  Rev.  William  B.  Lighton  is  a  membor  of  our  chmch  in 
Landaif  N.  H.  in  good  8tandins;,and  is  a  respectable  Local  Preacher, 
—that  from  personal  acquaintance  with  him,  we  are  prepared  to 
commend  him  to  the  Publick  as  a  man  possessing  a  g(H)d,  sound, 
moraI,and  christian  character  j  and  in  whose  veracity  the  fullest  con* 
fidcnce  may  be  placed. 

We  have  read  his  interesting  Narrative  of  his  lifn  and  sufferings, 
and  consider  it  entitled  to  credit.  It  possesses  a  sufhcient  number, 
and  variety  of  remarkable  occurenres  to  make  it  interesting,  and 
appropriate  moral  reflections  to  render  it  useful.  Believing  it  will  b« 
read  with  interest  by  all,  and  that  it  will  be  profitable,  especially 
to  yottig  persons,  we  cheerfully  recommend  it  us  a  work  deserving 
of  Public  patronage. 

Rev.  J.  B.  H.  NORRIS, 
R?v.  SALMON  GLKASON, 
Rev.  WILLIAM  PECK, 
Rev.  ELEAZEll  WELLS, 
Rev.  HOLM  AN  DREW, 
Hev,  JAMES  DOW, 
Rev.  MATTHEW  NEWHALL, 
Rev.  CHARLES  COWING, 
Rev.  SAMUEL  HOYT. 

July  1836.  ) 


•   »  -. 


^.'^ 


nr]  it  to  th« 
calculated 

I. 

RSTON. 

ss. 


/  ' 


>al  Church, 
il»y  certify  : 
church  In 
Preacher, 
>repared  to 
(xl,  sound, 
ullest  con* 

sufferings. 
It  number, 
sting,  and 
g  it  wi!!  ba 
especially 
deserving 


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4. 


NARRATIVE 


O  F   THE 


OF    A 

YOUNG  BRITISH  CAPTIVE  ; 

(Minister  of  the  Gospel.) 

WHO  WAS  A  SOLDIER,  BOUND  FOR  LIFE  IN  THK  BRITISH  ARMT' 

AND  IN  WHICH  IS  CONTAINED  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  ITS  CHARACTER, 

AND  THE   BARBAROUS  METHOD   PRACTISED  IN  PUNISHING 

THEIR  SOLDIERS;   WITH  AN  INTERESTING  ACCOUNT  OF 

HIS   ESCAPE   FROM  HIS   REGIMENT,  HIS    CAPTURE, 

IMPRISONMENT,  TRIAL,  AND   CONDEMNATION   TO 

DEATH;  HIS  SUBSEQUENT  SUFFERINGS,    AND 

flNAL  ESCAPE  FROM  CAPTlVITy,  AND  FROM 

THE  BRITISH  DOMIN  IONS. 


IVRITTEN  BT  HIMSBI^F. 


«*  <ln\a  talia  fando  temperet  a  lacrymas  ?  "^Virgil— i.  e. 
**  Who  can  rerrain  troni  tears  at  the  relation  of  such  things?** 
*'  Is  it  nothing  to  you,  all  ye  that  pass  by  ?    Behold   and  see,  if 
there  be  any  sorrow  like  unto  my  sorrow,  which  is  done  unto  me.* 

Jeremiah, 


RSrifEO  EOITTOK — EMBELLISHED  WITH  BNGRAVlNat. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 

ALLISON  AND  FOSTER,  PRINTERS. 

1836. 


I 


^ 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Coiigresa,  in  the  year  1826, 

By  WlLLlAUB.  LiQHTON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  New-Hampshire. 


STEREOTYPED  BY  ALLISON  AND  FOSTEK. 


> 


*;) 


PREFACE. 


'■'^>V' 


Many  of  the  virtuous  and  the  good  whose 
lives  have  been  distinguished  for  usefulnesss 
have  contributed  to  the  literature  of  the  world 
by  publishing  their  biographies  ;  thereby  pro- 
moting the  cause  of  truth,  morality,  and  reli- 
gion, and  perpetuating  their  memories  among 
the  living.  Though  the  writer  may  shine  with 
far  inferior  lustre  in  the  scale  of  intellectual  and 
moral  greatness  to  many  who  have  written  ; 
yet,  he  would  meekly  present  to  the  Public  a 
narrative  of  his  young  and  eventful  career  ;  a 
career,  which  has  been  marked  with  some  of 
the  most  remarkable  occurrences,  and  which 
are  not  less  interesting  from  having  been  suf- 
fered at  so  early  an  age.  To  the  merits  of 
these  assertions  the  impartial  reader  is  left  to 
judge. 

The  writer  trusts  that  he  possesses  nothing  of 
assumptive  arrogance,  nor  the  work  any  thing 
of  fictitious  novelty.  It  is  a  plain  unvarnished 
statement  of  real  facts,  as  they  have  occurred, 
and  of  sufferings  as  they  have  been  endured. 
The  reader  then  must  pardon  its  errors  ;  and 
rather  then  pierce  it  with  a  dagger  of  criticism, 
he  will  drop  his  mace,  and  cover  all  its  faults 
with  a  mantle  of  mercy. 

The  object  of  writing  it  will  be  obtained  if 
it  shall  exhibit  the  goodness  of  God — correct 
the  evil  passions  of  the  heart — enforce  paren- 


rf 


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\     .     ' 


4  PREFACE. 

tal  obedience — promote  generous  sentiments — 
elevate  the  standard  of  morality,  and  'purify  the 
the  taste  of  the  youth,  to  whom  it  is  most  sin- 
cerely dedicated. 

It  was  not  originally  the  design  of  the  author 
to  publish  his  narrative  at  so  early  a  period  of 
his  life  ;  but  to  have  withheld  it  from  the  world 
until  (if  he  lived)  he  was  further  advanced  in 
years,  or  have  lefl  it  in  manuscript  to  be  pub- 
lished afler  his  decease.  But  the  ardent  solic- 
itude felt  by  his  bereaved  and  afflicted  Parents, 
who  has  for  a  number  of  years  suffered  severe 
mental  anxiety  and  grief,  from  the  authors  sud- 
den separation  from  them  in  the  bud  of  early 
youth,  and  his  being  conveyed  away  to  a  for- 
eign land,ignorant  of  the  dangers  aud  sufferings 
to  which  he  was  exposed,  probably  never  to 
meet  them  again  on  the  shores  of  time  ;  and 
the  earnest  importunate  desire  expressed  in 
their  letters  to  have  it  immediately  put  to  the 
press,  when  they  learned  its  general  events  by 
a  correspondence  ;  is  a  request  too  powerful 
in  its  claims  not  to  be  acceded  too  with  senti- 
ments of  childlike  affection  and  gratitude. 
Added  to  this  is  the  conviction  that  the  events 
embodied  in  the  work,  are  of  sufficient  interest 
to  justify  its  publication . 

The  author  feels  that  all  his  sufferings  have 
arisen  from  disobedience  to  his  Parents,  and  a 
reckless  spirit  of  adventure  : — he  would  there- 
fore write  this  as  a  warning  to  the  rising  gen- 
eration, hoping  it  may  prove  a  check  to  the  viru- 
lent passions  of  the  young  and  thoughtles  and, 


^■1 


% 


'M 


PREFACE. 


by 


do  good  ;  and  that  it  may  on  these  accounts 
be  sanctioned  by  every  christian  and  philan- 
thropist. 

This  being  the  motive  by  which  the  follow- 
ing pages  have  been  compiled,  he  would  pre- 
sent them  to  the  candid  Public,  in  unison  with 
the  sentiments  and  wishes  of  friends,  and  kin- 
derd,  who  are  far  separated  from  him  by  the 
mighty  deep,  with  a  desire  that  it  may  be  ren- 
dered a  blessing,  both  to  them,  and  to  every 
American  youth. 

That  the  blessing  of  God  may  rest  upon  the 
work,  is  the  sincere  prayer  of 

THE  AUTHOR. 


tude. 
rents 
jrest 


lave 
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jen- 
\ir\i' 
md. 


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'/ 


'  '( 


CONTENTS. 


,j 


CHAPTER  I. 

Containing^  an  account  of  his  nativity,  parentage,  early  life,  and 
trials,  to  the  15th  year  of  his  age,  when  he  enlisted  as  a  lol* 
dier  in  his  Majesty*3  service. 

CHAPTER  II. 

From  the  time  he  enlisted,  to  his  being  embodied  with  his  regi- 
ment in  Montreal,  Lower  Canada. 

^  CHAPTER  III. 

An  account  of  his  trials  and  suiTerings,  from  the  time  he  joined 
his  regiment  to  his  reprieve  from  death ;  containing  some  af* 
fecting  occurrences. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

From  the  time  he  was  reprieved,  to  his  final  escape  from  im- 
prisonment— in  which  is  manifest  the  providence  and  graco 
of  God. 

CHAPTER  V. 

An  account  of  his  life  and  trials,  from  his  escape  from  imprison* 
ment  to  his  arrival  in  the  United  States. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

An  account  of  the  succeeding  years  of  his  life, — the  dispensations 
of  Providence  and  grace,— -continued  down  to  the  present 
time. 


LIFE 


-  i 


OF 


WILLIAM  B.  LIGHTON. 


life,  and 
as  a  sol* 


his  regi- 


e  joined 
some  af« 


rom  im- 
id  graco 


nprison* 


DSatlOBS 

present 


I 


» 


--t — 

/ 

CHAPTER  I. 

Containing  an  account  of  his  nativity,  parantage,  early  life, 
and  trials,  to  the  15tb  year  of  his  age,  when  he  enlisted  as 
a  soldier  in  tlis  Majesty's  service. 

I  was  born  at  Frampton,  near  Boston,  in  the 
County  of  Lincolnshire,  England,  on  the  sev- 
enth day  of  September,  1805.  My  father  pos- 
sessed a  small,  but  fertile  farm,  from  whence  by 
honest  industry,  he  obtained  a  comfortable  sup- 
port for  himself  and  family,  consisting  of  a  wife 
and  five  children,  three  sons  and  two  daugh- 
ters. He  possessed  a  sound  judgment,  a  pen- 
etrating genius  and  an  active  vigorous  mind, 
with  a  character  of  untarnished  worth.  His 
dealings  were  always  marked  with  the  strictest 
principles  of  justice,  which  rendered  him  belov- 
ed and  a  useful  member  of  society.  Thus  was 
my  dear  father  respected,  and  through  Provi- 
dence, blest  with  a  cheerful  competence  that  re- 
moved him  and  his  family  from  the  dangerous 
extremes  of  poverty  and  wealth,  either  of  which 
is  oflen  productive  of  much  painful  anxiety. 
My  dear  mother  died   while  I   was  quite 


r 


f 


8 


LIFE  OF  w    n     .,-. 

vv.   B,   LIGHTON. 


J'^ung;  of  course  I  oa„ 

character .     However  ,h''^  *•"! ''"'«  «»»out  her 

J  "nbiHed  is  still  bri'hi I  /P?'"''  "'''^collection 

pamfui  afflictiorwhich  thf  "^  "*  '°"g  ani 
«>«'tude,shetook  anlff  ^^  "'"''^  ^^i""  christian 
husband  and  ch^dron  .J"?"^'^  '"'^rewell  oj-her 
«"  ">(o  the  hami  of  '  "''  ''"f '='""'nittinV,htl 
P««ce  and  in  full  ho^'e^^oraXi ''°''  ^"^  ^"'^^ 

A  few  days   ubt"""  "'■""• '""'•^■" 
*-  <>f-r/t;?twrs''£7  "Cher's  demise, 
followed  her  to  the  real.n«    «•  ^""'^'ears  of  age) 

•*  here  is  snmo*K-  ^  "^'"e  of  the  T  r^^A  » 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


i)out  her 
Jllection 
Sections 
^  mater- 
the  best 
rthy  of 
►ng  and 
christian 
11  of  her 
ng  them 
)  died  in 
ortalit/. 


demise, 
of age) 
liis  sud- 
ound  in 
mourn- 
ded  to 
most 
\d  sub- 
d  hath 
ord." 
amily 
assi- 
f  the 
t  be 
lost 
►ugh 
ren, 
eart. 
See 


m 


him  fixing  his  vacant  gaze  upon  the  place  she 
used  to  occupy  ; — associations  are  connected 
with  a  glance  at  that  empty  place  which  rend 
his  heart,  and  start  the  tears  into  his  mournful 
eyes.    Does  he  retire  to  his  solitary  chamber  at 
night  ?     It  is  but  to  spend  the  sleepless  hours 
in  remembrances  of  the  past    It  was  so  with  my 
father,  his  bosom  was  severely  wounded,  and  he 
lived  but  to  mourn  the  loss  he  had  experienced. 
It  is  felt  by  the  children.     They  recoil  from  the 
cold    attention  of  strangers,  which,  however 
kind  it  may  be,  never  equals  the  warmth  of  a 
mother's  love.     They  miss  too  those  instruc- 
tions, which  they  were  wont  to  receive  from  her 
beloved  and  willing  lips,  by  which  they  were  so 
much  improved  and  amused.     Here  it  was  that 
I  suffered  by  not  having  a  mother,  who,  in   the 
course  of  my  early  years,  would  have  repressed 
the   effects  of  depraved  nature,  by  her  sage 
counsels  and  wise  government. 

After  the  lapse  of  several  months,  my  father 
married  a  second  time  to  an  amiable  woman  of 
preposessing  appearance,  and  a  disposition  so 
agreeable  as  to  win  the  affection  and  secure  the 
esteem  of  all  her  acquaintances.  From  her  I 
received  that  care,  which,  in  some  measure, 
atoned  for  my  former  loss.  ^  She  was  kind  and 
indulgent,  though  at  the  same  time  strict  in  re- 
quiring obedience, — but  the  reader,  who  has 
lost  a  fond  mother,  will  understand  me,  when  I 
say  she  was  not  my  mother. 

My   parents  were  strict  observers    of  the 
^   rules  of  the  established  church.    For  the  truths 


■'/■■   ■' 


,   I 


10 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


of  the  bible  they  possessed  a  deep  reverence 
and  sincere  regard,  and  they  strove  to  impress 
those  truths  upon  the  minds  of  their  offspring  at 
the  earliest  periods  of  intellectual  exfoliation. 

The  effect  of  this  pious  instruction  produced 
in  my  mind  a  deep  veneration  for  the  character 
of  God,  and  fear  of  offending  him  by  a  breach 
of  his  holy  law.  The  following  anecdote, 
though  simple,  may  serve  to  show  what  moral 
impression  was  made  upon  my  mind. 

It  is  a  matter  of  most  implicit  faith  among 
the  juvenile   class,  in  some  parts  of  England, 
that  the  robin  red-breast,  from  some  undefined 
reason  or  other,  is  the  peculiar  favorite  of  Dei- 
ty, that  its  red-breast  is  the  trait  by  which  it  is 
known  as  such,  and  that  to  destroy  it   inevita- 
bly produces  the  displeasure  of  Jehovah.     Un- 
fortunately I  destroyed  a  brood  of  these  chirp- 
ing  innocents,  which   I  had  no   sooner  done, 
than  I  became  the  subject  of  a  train  of  reflec- 
tion the  most  painful  and  disagreeable.     Con- 
viction rolled  upon  my  mind,  I  felt  guilty,  un- 
happy, and  was  full  of  fear  for  the  deed  I  had 
done  ;    in   vain  did  I  try  to  forget  the  act  ;  I 
could  not ;  my  burden  grew  heavier,  it  became 
insupportable,  I  wept  aloud  and  cried  to  God 
for  mercy  and   pardon,  promising  if  he  would 
forgive  me,  I  never  would  be  guilty  of  the  like 
offence.     The  effect  of  my  importunate  cry  to 
God  gave  me  the  most  sensible  relief  that  I  ev- 
er experienced  in  my  life.     My  guilt  was  rolled 
off  my  shoulders  and  my  wonted  peace  return- 
ed to   my  bosom,  insomuch  that  I  resumed  my 


% 
"% 


M 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  IJGIITON. 


11 


Bverence 
)  impress 
fspring  at 
Uation. 
produced 
character 
a  breach 
inecdote, 
at  moral 

h  among 
England, 
indefined 
e  of  Dei- 
hich  it  is 
inevita- 
ah.  Un- 
5se  chirp- 
er  done, 
)f  reflec- 
Con- 
ilty,  un- 
I  had 
act  ;  I 
became 
to  God 
e  would 
the  like 
le  cry  to 
at  I  ev- 
,s  rolled 
return- 
ed my 


innocent  amusements  with  all  the  transports  of 
youthful  delight.  Would  to  God  that  my  mor- 
al sensitiveness  had  always  remained  equally 
sharp  ! 

In  order  that  I  might  be  more  efficiently  in- 
structed in  those  scriptures  which  make  "  wise 
unto  salvation,"  I  was,  at  an  early  age,  sent  to 
a  Sabbath  School,  conducted  by  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  whose  souls,  filled  with' a  Saviour's 
love,  yearned  with  compassion  for  the  youth  of 
the  village, and  from  whose  philanthropic  labors, 
I  imbibed  a  respect  for  the  name  and  charac- 
ter of  the  Supreme  being,  which,  in  after  life, 
served  to  restrain  me  from  the  depths  of  vice. 
O,  the  blessed  and  happy  effects  of  Sabbath 
Schools  !  Surely  they  are  seats  of  mercy. 
Would  to  God  they  were  more  perseveringly 
attended  too.  Ye  Christians,  awake  to  this 
important  duty,  and  labor  steadily  with  all  your 
moral  powers  at  this  mighty  engine  of  piety  and 
reformation  !  And  may  the  Omnipotent  Jeho- 
vah bless  you  and  the  institution  with  success  ! 

My  father,  being  a  man  of  information,  and 
aware  of  the  value  of  education,  placed  me  un- 
der the  tuition  of  Mr.  Joshua  Dent,a  gentleman 
fitted  both  by  learning,  and  judgment  to  super- 
intend the  instruction  of  youth.  From  this  in- 
divid^ial  I  received  that  assistance  which  ena- 
bled me  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  common 
branches  of  learning,  and  had  it  not  been  for 
the  indolence  to  which  I  was  subject,  I  should 
have  been  instructed  in  the  higher  branches  of 
literature  ;  but,  to  my  subsequent  sorrows  I 
2 


ii 


12 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


thwarted  the  design  of  my  parents,  and  master, 
by  mj^  indolence  and  love  of  amusement.  This 
last  mentioned  evil  continually  involved  me  in 
trouble  and  perplexity,  wasted  my  precious 
time,  and  in  some  cases,  rendered  me  amenable 
to  the  laws  of  the  land,  as  also  it  made  me  the 
subject  of  my  father's  displeasure.  The  amuse- 
ments to  which  I  allude  were  the  robbing  of 
gardens,  and  orchards,trapping  game,  and  hunt- 
ing bird's  nests,  Stc.  To  the  latter  of  which  I 
became  so  grosely  addicted  that  I  have  fre- 
quently exposed  myself  to  the  most  emminent 
danger  of  breaking  my  limbs  and  losing  my 
life.  Such  was  the  effect  of  my  climbing  into 
thcirn-hedges  in  pursuit  of  my  object,  that  I 
have  suffered  severely  from  the  lacerating 
thorn,  both  upon  my  flesh  and  clothes,the  latter 
of  which  would  sometimes  be  tattered  in  rags, 
which  sight  provoked  my  parents  to  anger,  es- 
pecially my  mother,  as  it  kept  her  generally 
busy  with  the  needle  and  thread,  in  mending 
for  me."  These  propensities  I  indulged,  as  of- 
ten, and  as  far  as  circumstances  would  permit, 
in  defiance  of  the  strictest  injunctions  to  the 
contrary. 

I  mention  these  things  to  show  the  young 
reader  what  I  consider  to  be  the  first  causes  of 
my  numerous  sufferings  in  afler  life,  viz:  diso- 
bedience to  my  parents.  Had  I  obeyed  them 
and  refrained  from  my  sinful  persuits,  I  should 
have  escaped  that  censure  and  severe  punish- 
ment, I  oflen  received  as  the  consequence  of 
my  offences.     I  shall  accordingly  introduce  the 


^. 


LIFE  OF  W    B.  LIGHTON. 


IS 


ad  master, 
ent.  This 
ved  me  in 
y  precious 
B  amenable 
ide  me  the 
Phe  amuse- 
robbing  of 
I,  and  hunt- 
of  which  I 
[  have  fre- 
t  emminent 
losing  my 
mbing  into 
ect,  that  I 

lacerating 
Sjthe  latter 
ed  in  rags, 

anger,  es- 

generally 
mending 
ged,  as  oP 

Id  permit, 
ons  to  the 

the  young 
causes  of 
viz:  diso- 
eyed  them 
,  I  should 
re  punish- 
quence  of 
reduce  tho 


y^'i 


reader  to  one  or  two  circumstances,  which  may 
serve  to  illustrate  this  remark. 

My  father  was  an  experienced  horticulturist, 
and  possessed  a  peculiar  taste  which  led  him  to 
cultivate  his  garden  almost  to  paradisical  per- 
fection ;  from  which  circumstances  he  forbad 
his  children  entering  it  on  pain  of  his  displeas- 
ure; a  prohibitation  so  reasonable,ought  certain- 
ly to  have  been  obeyed.  I  did  however,  pay 
frequent  visits  to  this  delightful  spot,  and  regale 
myself  with  the  rich  and  luxuriant  fruit  it  con- 
tained. On  one  occasion  having  entered  this 
forbidden  ground  in  company  with  my  oldest 
brother,  after  we  had  eaten  our  fill,  and  had 
commenced  lading  ourselves  with  spoil,  unsus- 
picious of  dang/^r?  we  were  alarmed  by  the 
sound  of  a pprc^hing  footsteps.  Our  feelings 
were  greatly  excited  at  the  idea  of  discoverey, 
laden  as  ^»e  were  with  forbidden  fruit.  Accor- 
dingly we  paused  to  ascertain  who  the  intruders 
might  be,  when  we  heard  a  voice  too  well  known 
to  admit  of  doubt  concerning  our  unwelcome 
visitors.  It  was  my  mother  and  grandmother 
who  having  been  informed  of  our  proceedings 
by  a  neighboring  family,  were  come  to  drive  us 
plunderers  away. 

We  had  but  a  moment  for  consultation,and  as 
the  only  alternative  was  to  bury  our  fruit  in 
the  ground,  and  hide  ourselves  in  the  bushes, 
we  did  so,  thus  hoping  to  escape  detection. 
Scarcely  were  we  secreted,  when  they  ap- 
proached, and  with  a  voice  that  filled  us  with 
alarm,  my  mother  exclaimed,  "  then  you  are 


14 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


I 


i       ) 


>i] 


here,  you  villains,  are  you  ?  Come  out  immedi- 
ately." We  however  remained,perfectly  silent, 
when  they  commenced  a  regular  search,  and 
soon  dislodged  us  from  our  retreat,  and  drove 
us  from  the  garden. 

My  father  too,  detected  me  in  obtaining  game 
by  unlawful  means,  since  by  the  laws  of  Eng- 
land, it  is  a  crime  to  kill  any  kind  of  game  what- 
ever, unless  duly  qualified  according  to  law, 
which  qualificatiou  supposes  ix  large  share  of 
property,  and  the  payment  of  certain  dues  ; 
and  should  any  whom  Providence  has  placed  in 
a  lower  sphere  of  life, dare  to  lay  their  unhallow- 
ed  hands  upon  any  of  thos^  proscribed  creatures, 
even  though  he  should  be  urged  to  do  it  by  the 
imperious  demands  of  a  staiving  family,  the 
strong  arm  of  an  impious  law  \fould  drag  him 
from  the  bosom  of  a  dependent  wife  ^d  children, 
and  consign  him  to  a  transportation  Sbr  several 
years.  These  are  laws  which  in  my  humble 
opinion  ought  to  be  repealed,  as  they  savor  too 
much  of  despotism  and  tyrany.  Against  these 
laws,  I  frequently  rebelled,  and  carried  on  my 
schemes  with  impunity,  without  regard  to  law 
or  its  consequences. 

My  father  being  a  strict  observer  of  these 
laws,  did  all  that  lay  in  his  power  to  prevent  his 
children  infringing  them.  He  would  keep 
no  dog,  guD,  or  instrument  upon  his  premises 
that  would  in  any  way  afford  the  means  of 
poaching,  and  strictly  forbid  any  such  course 
on  pain  of  his  displeasure,  with  severe  pun- 
ishment. 


"I 


'* 


out  immedi- 
ectly  silent, 
search,  and 
» and  drove 

ining  game 
'9  of  Eng- 
ame  what- 
ig  to  law, 
e  share  of 
ain  dues  ; 
s  placed  in 
'  unhallow' 
creatures, 

it  by  the 
imily,  the 
drag  him 

children, 
)r  several 
y  humble 

savor  too 
inst  these 

d  on  my 
to  law 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


15 


i 


of  these 
Bvent  his 
Id  keep 
)remise8 
Bans  of 
1  course 
re  puo- 


As  my  father  descovered  my  propensity  to 
evil,  he  adopted  a  course  of  discipline  so  strict 
that  my  life  actually  became  a  burthen  ;  home 
became  unpleasent  to  me,  and  I  ardently  sighed 
for  an  escape  from  such  severe  discipline,  as  it 
had  a  very  sad  effect  upon  my  mind.  The  pos- 
itive, and  oft  repeated  prohibitions  only  serv- 
ed to  increase  and  inflame  my  desires,  and 
to  create  feelings  which  moderate  gratification 
would  have  smothered  in  the  birth.  And  I 
firmly  believe  had  my  dear  parents  pursued  a 
milder  and  more  lenient  course  of  government 
towards  me,  my  prominent  defects  of  charac- 
ter might  have  been  subdued,  and  I  saved  from 
those  subsequent  evils  which  befel  me  in  after 
life.  Hence  it  appears,  that  punishments  too 
severe,  and  restrictions  too  minute  only  defeat 
their  own  ends.  We  are  naturally  prone  to  de- 
sire most,  that  which  is  most  strictly  forbidden, 
and  the  prohibition  sometimes  serves  to  enkindle 
desires  which  other  wise  never  would  have 
existed.  Not  that  we  suppose  the  law  to 
create  the  principle  which  thus  leads  to  dis- 
obedience, no  ;  that  principle  has  its  birth  co- 
eval with  the  existence  of  the  man,  and  is  elic- 
ited by  the  enforcement  of  the  command. 
This  we  believe  is  what  the  Apostle  meant 
when  he  said,  "for  without  the  law  sin  was 
dead,"  and  the  Heathen  where  he  says  : 

**  Vice  is  provoked  by  every  strong  restraint ; 
Sick  men  love  most  to  drink,  who  know  they  may'nt.*' 

Were  a  proper  line  of  conduct  pursued  in  the 

government  and   education   of   children,  how 

2» 


V  ifl 


16 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


few  profligate  sons  and  daughterSj  and  how  few 
broken  hearted  parents,  should  we  find  !  'J'ho 
injudicious  management  of  many  parents  with 
their  children,  the  neglect  of  early  religioua 
education,  connected  with  a  wholesome  and  of- 
fectionate  restraint,  is  the  ruin  of  millions. 
Many  parents  are  too  authoritative  and  austere 
in  their  mode  of  government  which  renders 
obedience  irksome  and  slavish.  Others  again, 
go  into  as  great  an  extreme  on  the  other  hand, 
for  they  exercise  but  very  little  or  no  govern- 
ment at  all.  Their  children  some  of  them  be- 
fore they  are  of  age  would  seem  to  usurp  the 
reins  of  government  into  their  own  hands,  and 
they  heed  as  much  the  wind  that  blows  as  they 
do  the  counsel  and  admonition  of  their  parents. 

And  why  is  this  ?  It  is  because  their  pa- 
rents are  not  in  the  exercise  of  a  judicious  and 
proper  discipline, — and  for  fear  of  doing  hurt  to 
their  children,  or  injuring  their  own  feelings, 
they  let  them  run  headlong  in  their  own  way. 
No  wonder  then  if  they  have  profligate  chil- 
dren ! — ^And  indeed  it  will  be  a  wonder,  if 
their  children  do  not  sink  to  hell  through  their 
neglect  ! 

'^  It  is  not  parental  fondness,  nor  parental 
authority,  taken  separately,  that  can  produce 
this  beneficial  effect.  A  father  may  be  as  fond 
of  his  offspring  as  he  possibly  can  be,  and  his 
children  be  disobedient  and  rebellious  :  he 
may  be  as  authoritative  as  the  grand  Turk,  and 
his  children  despise  and  plot  rebellion  against 
him.    But  let  parental  authority  be  tempered 


I 


nv. 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGUTON. 


17 


md  how  few 
find  !     'i^he 
irents   with 
\y  relig^ioua 
mie  and  af" 
f  millions, 
md  austere 
ch   renders 
hers  again, 
)ther  hand, 
lo  govern- 
!*  them  be- 
>  usurp  the 
lands,  and 
ws  as  they 
iir  parents, 
I  their  pa- 
|icious  and 
ng  hurt  to 
feelings, 
)wn  way. 
;ate   chil- 
onder,  if 
ugh  their 

parental 

produce 
e  as  fond 

and  his 
)us  :  he 
urk,  and 

against 
Bmpered 


with  fathcrlu  affection  ;  and  let  the  reins  of  dij^- 
cipline  be  steadily  held  by  this  powerful  but 
affectionate  hand  ;  and  there  shall  tiie  pleasure 
of  God  prosper  ;  there  will  he  give  his  blessing, 
even  life  for  evermore.  Many  fine  families 
have  been  spoiled^  and  many  ruined^  by  the 
separate  exercise  of  those  two  principles. 

Parental  affectioriy  when  aloney  infallibly  de- 
generates into  foolish  fondness  ;  and  parental 
authority  frequently  dfegenerates  into  brutal 
tyranny,  when  standing  by  itself  The  first 
sort  of  parents  will  be  loved,  without  being  res- 
pected ;  the  second  sort  will  be  dreaded,  with- 
out either  respect  or  esteem.  In  the  first  case 
obedience  is  not  exacted,  and  is  therefore  leA 
to  be  unnecessary,  as  oflfences  of  great  magni- 
tude pass  without  punishment  or  reprehension  : 
in  the  second  case,  rigid  exaction  renders  obe- 
dience almost  impossible  ;  and  the  smallest  de- 
linquency is  often  punished  with  the  extreme 
of  torture  ;  which,  hardening  the  mind,  renders 
duty  a  matter  of  perfect  indifference. 

Parents,  lay  these  things  to  heart  !  Teach 
your  children  to  fear  God — use  wholesome  dis- 
cipline—be determined — begin  in  time — mingle 
severity  and  mercy  together  in  all  your  conduct— 
and  earnestly  pray  to  God  to  second  your  god- 
ly discipline  with  the  power  and  grace  of  his 
spirit  !  " 

I  had  now  arrived  at  that  period  of  my  life 
when  it  was  deemed  expedient  I  should  make 
choice  of  some  pursuit,  by  which  to  maintain 
myself  in  afler  life  ;  but  so  volatile  and  change- 


'i  I  p 


t! 


,>ti^' 


18 


LIFE    OF    W.  J5.  LlCaiTON. 


ful  was  my  disposition,  that  I  found  it  difficult 
to  decide.  Added  to  this,  my  mind  was  filled 
with  the  most  romantic  ideas  of  distant  places, 
I  was  charmed  with  the  history  of  travellers 
and  longed  to  rove  at  large  through  the  wide 
earth  uncontrolled  and  free.  This  disposition 
was  not  a  little  increased  from  the  following 
circumstance. 

Captain  Hewitt,  a  relative  of  my  father,  came 
to  spend  a  few  days  with  us  previous  to  the 
sailing  of  his  ship  on  a  long  voyage.  To  him 
was  made  known  by  my  father  the  disposition 
I  possessed.  They  thought  it  best  to  send  me 
to  sea.  Accordingly  it  was  agreed  that  Cap- 
tain Hewitt  should  take  me,  provided  I  would 
consent.  I  cheerfully  assented,  when  an  agree- 
ment was  accordingly  entered  into  and  I  was 
ordered  to  hold  myself  in  readiness  for  sea 
at  the  summons  of  my  friend. 

I  was  now  much  excited  and  busy  in  pre- 
paring for  my  departure.  I  thought  but  little 
of  leaving  home,  and  parting  with  friends  ;  my 
mind  was  filled  with  ideas  of  the  pleasures  of 
a  sailor's  life,  and  my  engagedness  had  like  to 
have  cost  my  father  his  house  ;  for  one  night, 
while  preparing  papers  and  books  for  an  inten- 
ded journal,  I  accidentally  set  fire  to  the  win- 
dow hangings  of  my  bed-chamber,  and  thus  al- 
most fired  the  house. 

Having  made  the  necessary  preparations  for 
my  departure,  I  began  to  look  anxiously  for 
the  summons  of  the  Captain,  but  having  wait- 
ed several  weeks  in  vain,  was  compelled  to 


'ilLi 


it  diflicult 

was  filled 
mt  places, 

travellers 
1  the  wide 
iisposition 

following 

'her,  came 
us  to  the 
I'o  him 
lisposition 
'  send  me 
that  Cap- 
I  would 
an  agree- 
nd  I  was 
'  for  sea 

in  pre- 
Jut  little 
ids  ;  my 
sures  of 
d  like  to 
e  night, 

inten- 
he  win- 
thus  al- 
iens for 
sly  for 
wait- 
lied  to 


LIFE   OF  W.  B.  LIGUTON. 


19 


give  the  matter  up  as  a  disappointment,  and  so 
it  proved,  for  we  never,  to  my  knowledge,  heard 
a  word  of  his  fate,  but  were  left  to  conjecture 
the  reason  why  he  did  not  fulfil  his  promise. 

Some  time  after  this  circumstance  the  ques- 
tion of  emigration  was  seriously  agitated^ 
among  my  friends,  and  neighbors,  America 
with  all  its  advantages  formed  the  to^^ic  of  con- 
versation, among  all  classes  of  society.  The 
public  voice  spake  loud  in  its  favor,  and  the 
various  periodicals  of  the  day  were  filled  with 
flaming  eulogies  of  this  far-famed  continent. 
Among  those  who  were  captivated  with  these 
pleasing  accounts  my  father  stood  foremost, 
and  felt  a  most  anxious  desire  to  visit  a  spot  so 
facinating.  But  the  ill  health  of  my  mother, 
formed  an  almost  insuperable  barrier  to  his  de- 
sign and  led  him  to  give  it  up,  at  least  for  a 
season. 

But  though  thus  prevented  from  prosecuting 
his  plan  immediately,  his  desire  was  by  no 
means  allayed,  nor  his  opinion  altered  ;  indeed, 
the  pleasing  descriptions  constantly  received 
by  the  English,  tended  to  keep  the  spirit  of 
emigration  in  a  state  of  active  existence,  and 
to  increase  those  desires  already  formed  in  the 
breasts  of  thousands.  The  unbounded  field  it 
afforded  for  the  hard  hand  of  industry  ;  the 
rich  harvest  it  ofTered  to  the  speculator  ;  and 
above  all,  the  rising  importance  of  its  govern- 
ment, operated  with  the  influence  of  a  magnet. 
Added  to  this,  the  deplorable  state  of  things  at 
home  ;  the  glaring  abuses  of  an  impious  gov- 


20 


LIFE   OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


■  i     : 


I  i 


eminent  ;  the  depression  and  wretchedness  of 
the  lower  classes,  and  the  murderous  weight  of 
TAXATION  rendered  the  people  dissatisfied, 
and  taught  them  to  believe  that  emigration 
would  be  conducive  to  their  benefit  to  leave  the 
home  of  their  fathers,  and,  like  the  pilgrims, 
seek  a  refuge  (not  from  religious  persecutions) 
but  from  political  oppression,  and  domestic 
poverty,  in  a  land  of  freedom  and  plenty. 

Such  feelings  and  views  operated  as  a  pow- 
erful stimulous  upon  my  mind,  and  created  a 
strong  desire  in  me  to  visit  a  place  of  which  I 
had  heard  so  much,  especially  as  the  members 
of  my  own  family  were  continually  discussing 
the  merits  and  demerits   of  the  question. 

This  desire  was  much  increased  by  the  con- 
versation of  a  gentleman,  whom  my  father  em- 
ployed to  give  me  a  little  private  instruction 
for  the  purpose  of  putting  the  finishing  stroke 
to  my  education.  My  father  usually  attended 
at  these  hours  ;  (which  was  in  the  evenings  of 
the  winter  season)  and  during  the  leisure  mo- 
ments of  my  tutor,  would  converse  freely  upon 
his  favorite  topic.  My  instructor  being  well 
acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  colonies, 
and  other  circumstances  of  recent  date,  took 
pleasure  in  answering  every  enquiry  upon  the 
subject. 

Frequently  he  would  read  to  my  father  some 
interesting  accounts  respecting  the  country, 
which  was  so  congenial  with  my  feelings,  that  I 
listened  with  strict  attention,  and  treasured  up 
all  he  read,  so  that  when  the  period   arrived^ 


roN. 


LIFE    OF   W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


21 


chedness  of 
ous  weight  of 
3  dissatisfied, 
it    emigration 
it  to  leave  the 
he  pilgrims^ 
persecutions) 
fid    domestic 
plenty, 
d  as  a   pow- 
d  created   a 
5  of  which  I 
he  members 
'  discussing 
3stion. 
by  the  con- 
r  father  em- 
instruction 
ing   stroke 
ly  attended 
ivenings  of 
eisure  mo- 
reely  upon 
)eing  well 
-  colonies, 
date,   took 
upon  the 

Lther  some 
country, 
»gs,  that  I 
asured  up 
arrived, 


which  put  an  end  to  my  opportunity  for  instruc- 
tions, it  was  evident  1  had  improved  almost  as 
much  in  my  knowledge  of  American  manners 
and  customs^  as  in  any  department  of  science. 
After  leaving  my  insti  uctor,and  being  in  conse- 
quence, deprived  of  that  source  of  information, 
I  procured  a  work  entitled  the  "  Emigrant's 
Guide,''  which  I  read  at  every  opportunity, 
which  offered  itself,  wherein  I  could  avoid  no- 
tice and  detection.  The  only  place,  wherein 
I  felt  safe,  in  reading  my  book  about  America^ 
was  at  church  ;  (to  which  place  I  used  to  carry 
it  hid  under  my  clothes)  where,  seating  myself 
in  some  distant  part,  read  most  assidously,  ac- 
counts which  added  fuel  to  the  flame  already 
existing  in  my  bosom. 

As  offensive  as  this  course  may  appear  to  my 
reader,  I  was  compelled  to  adopt  it,  from  a 
vehement  de»ire  to  learn  all  I  could  about 
the  country,  and  to  keep  my  book  from  the 
knowledge  of  my  father,  who  would  have  de- 
prived me  of  it,  had  he  known  I  had  it. 

About  this  tiirie,  a  neighboring  gentleman, 
by  the  name  of  Westmoreland,  came  to  the  reso- 
lution of  trying  his  fortune  by  emigration, 
My  father  was  intending  to  accompany  him, 
but  my  mother  positively  refusig,  on  account 
of  her  health,  he  declined.  This  however  did 
not  retard  Mr.  W.,  who  proceeded  on  his  jour- 
ney early  m  the  spring, and  after  a  short  and 
pleasant  passage  landed  in  Philadelphia.  The 
sudden  change  he  experienced  from  the  moder- 
ate heat  of  England  to  the  scorching   sun   of 


22 


WPE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTOIV. 


co'„SrotV/''„^»/«all   effect   upon   his 
home.      In  short,  the  HiffJ      ^'^^  ''>™seJf  at 
«« to  lead   him   toTreftfT'^f^^'  ^  g^^'^t 
he  had  Jeft,  to  the  coSrv  of  hf  1,'^  •''«  ""me 
«o  beget   a   resolution   to   L""'°P"°"'   «"<« 
possible.     His   commun  °  .•^'"™   ««  ^oon   as 
evinced  this  resolutToToTht""!  /"  *''?  ^'^nd^ 
mation  was  so  unexnectpV*    ^^"^J  which  infor- 
would  scarcely  credU  the    *!'"?'  ^^}^'' "««'  he 
'mpatiently  to  hear  whit  J«ffi  ^"^  he  waited 
hw  visit.    As  it  happened  h.L'"'  "'^  •"««»''  of 
for  one   day  being  ^KdJi?  "'"'"»'' 'ong, 
field,  through  which  f^l''rr«''«"g  in  a 
from  Boston  to  other  il.f-   ^T'^^^'  'ead'ng 
country  and  withTn  a  sho  T^  """'  *"■  "»« 
place,  I  espied  an  inH.!;-?    .*''*'""'=«  of  that 
i;ards  us,  resembK„g°ttt     «f;P'"°''«'''»g  *o- 
the  gentleman  i„  qufsfL^  "r*"''  appearance, 
father  that  Mr.  W  TJ^^'J  '"^'na/ked  to  my 
as  .f  scarcely  able  toTredThH,^-     ^^  '°°''«d 
he  approached,  acknowi»j    J  ?  *®"*®«'.  hut  as 
'vaited  impatiemlv  rrT-  ^*"^  "  '^"^  him.     w! 
near  the  s^t tK^^^'va,  .hen  comi!| 
^as  close  bv  the  nafKA  u     ?  ®  ^abourinff,  fas  i1 
i'«/e«  yo„  «Vta.t^ho"ted  «„A  ^Xn, 

hands  and  congratuIa^W        u    ^^^^  ^hakinff 
ceeded  to  give  u,  fl  ^  ^*°h  other,  he  nro? 

and   presenf^d    us  thh'^T"''^,  '°''~i:: 
among  which,  I  well  reLrK''^'"*'    •'•"•'osities,' 


)N. 

^   upon   his 

himself  at 
as  so  great 
^  the  home 
option,  and 
is^  soon  as 
his  friends 
^hich  infor- 
mer, that  he 

he  waited 
B  result  of 
wait  long, 
'ting  in  a 
h,  leading 
ts  of  the 
5  of  that 
ching  to- 
>earance, 
ed  to  my 
I   looked 

>  but  as 
ni.     We 

coming 
S>  (as  it 
^ghtony 
[shaking 
le  pro- 
bation, 
osilies, 
•ortoise, 
;o  you 
ley  are 
dish 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


23 


with  the  Jlmericans  /  "  He  strongly  urged  my 
father  to  give  up  all  intention  of  emigrating, 
urging  many  discouragements,  among  which, 
one  was,  that  the  people  were  grievously  tor- 
mented with  musquetoes  and  flies,  which  he 
said  had  so  tormented  him  that  during  many 
nights  he  could  not  sleep. 

This  description  did  not  at  all  correspond 
with  my  father's  views,  and  he  supposing  the 
gentleman  more  at  fault  than  the  country,  la- 
conically observed,  after  they  had  parted, 
"  that  he  thought  his  back  was  too  strait,  "  sig- 
nifying he  did  not  love  work,  which  was  prob- 
ably the  case.  However,  these  circumstances 
only  made  me  the  more  anxious  to  visit  the 
country  and  satisfy  myself  with  respect  to  the 
validity  of  his  statements,  as  I  had  learned  by 
what  I  had  read  it  was  quite  the  reverse  of 
what  he  represented. 

Id  consequence  of  this,  together  with  many 
other  youthful  excitements,  I  had  now  become 
a  source  of  much  painful  uneasiness  to  my  pa- 
rents. My  disposition  became  unsettled,  and  I 
felt  anxious  to  enter  upon  new  scenes.  The 
mighty  conflict  between  passion  and  reason  now 
commenced  its  predominant  influence  upon  my 
mind,  and  such  was  its  effect,  that  nothing  but 
the  power  and  grace  of  God  could  have  sub- 
dued it.  I  stood  exposed  to  the  fascinating 
power  of  principle,  exciting  to  disobedience, 
&c.,  a  principle  so  powerful  that  all  the  effortei 
of  parental  discipline  failed  to  subdue  it,  and 
which  eventually  led  me  into  many  difiioulties 
and  dangers. 
3 


24 


i- ' 


LIFE  OF  w.  B.  LIGHTON. 


you?h%^:fLSS  r"^*^-^  "^''^-n  early 
?ne  of  the  most  da„  '  "  ;?„"T'  accounts,  i^ 
«s  then  that  the  oas^innl         "  ''"""^n  life,     u 

ungovernable;an2ThaUhr  T''  ^'""'e"'  and 
oupfy  for  preCnei^e      [t  iC'f^'"  ""^^  f""- 
voice  of  pleasure,  w°th   it!    1  *''^."  ""«'  the 
«ost  likel/to  capti'v^e  ani  ,     """.'"g  «»'«.  *« 
"I'nd.     A^d  it  i8Tefthluhi"^^  '''^  y°"'hful 
of  the  man  is  most  genera  fv  I  "'"/'^''^^^^^^ 
future  usefulness  in  l!fe  deteL^   "l^'''.^"'^   his 
•ne  pause,  and  speak  a  liHtT.?^'^-     "ere  let 
«<■•     Let  me  adWse  you  /'  L    ""t.^^^^S  ^ead- 
proceed,  with  regard  tovotr  rr""°?  ''""^  ^o" 
l^ile  you  are  in  the  dl^p^'  '"^  ""''  <">nd«ct, 
B«  careful  that  thou  foKot 't.f''"'  "^  y'"'''^- 
of  thy  own  heart,  that  tZ.  ?«        Pi-opensities 
the  dupe  of  vain  and  unmanlv  ^^^-^   "^^«^  ''« 

wmch   Solomon,  the  wise  min  ^         ^^"^e, 

important  reason  assigned  i«  'f?  '  """  ^^e 
the  m«e,  of  life."  Prov  4  2^  •^k""'  "/  ^  «»•« 
neglect,  or  overlook    h«'  !        ^^^atever  you 

heart.  For  it  is  2'  Jeat Tent '"/^?P  /""^ 
andif  oncebadonpri?/  ®®'  of  pmci pies 

"fee  «  cutting  ora;ii7r'.,f'^''"^hed,  ft  fs' 
out  the  right  eye,"  tSoo?l"f  «»d  "plu'cking 
fore,  be  watchful  Nlrrow^v^K  ""*•  ^^ere? 
chnafions  and  aversion,      V^  "^^""""^  ali  its  in- 

afiections,  together  w^rtre'Ulr.''*'"^  »"" 
occasions  which  excite  thpm     T"' °''J®efs  and 

—  heart  i,  so  witfe^l^r^Tou^ra^d' 


ween  early 
accounts,  is 
an  life.     It 
irulent  and 
e  most  furi- 
n  that  the 
ing  note,  is 
le  youthful 
e  character 
id,  and   his 
Here  let 
oung  read- 
US  how  you 
id  conduct, 
1  of  youth, 
•ropensities 
never  be 
ns.     Take 
of  advice, 
s  us,  viz. 
"  for   the 
it  of  it  are 
[tever  you 
eep   your 
rinciples, 
ed,  it   is 
plucking 
There- 
all  its  in- 
ions  and 
pects  and 
[member, 
life  and 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTQN. 


25 


•mt 


conduct  be.  As  is  the  fountain,  so  are  the 
streams  ;  as  is  the  root,  so  is  the  fruit.  May 
God  help  the  precious  reader  to  be  v^rise  ! 

My  parents  feeling  deeply  solicitious  for  my 
welfare,  and  perceiving  it  would  be  impossible 
to  effect  my  reformation  by  keeping  me  at  home 
with  them,  resolved  to  put  me  out  to  some  place 
that  I  might  gain  some  instruction  from  the 
hand  of  experience.  Accordingly  a  suitable 
place  was  procured  for  me  at  a  respectable  far- 
mer's about  twelve  miles  distant.  I  staid  there 
but  a  short  time,  for  the  reason  my  master  was 
not  in  need  of  me  as  a  servant,  and  no  agree- 
ment existing  between  my  master  and  father,  I 
left,  and  returned  home  to  the  parental  roof. 
My  parents  not  knowing  the  cause  of  my  leav- 
ing,and  unwilling  to  credit  my  report,  were  very 
much  displeased  at  my  return,  insomuch,  my 
life  became  a  burden  and  home  disgusting. 

In  the  spring  of  1819,  I  was  again  put  out  to 
service  at  some  distance  from  home.  The  fam- 
ily were  remarkably  strict  in  their  attention  to 
the  externals  of  religion,  but  like  the  Pharisees, 
they  were  strangers  to  its  vital  power  and  op- 
erations upon  the  heart.  Among  other  things, 
they  insisted  upon  a  punctual  attendance  at 
the  house  of  God  on  the  part  of  their  depen- 
dents, a  request  I  willingly  complied  with.  Al- 
though thus  careful  to  appear  pious,  they  were 
tb*^  victims  of  passion .  Hence,  my  master  up- 
<jn  the  slightest  offence  would  be  extremely 
angry  and  censure  with  unsparing  violence  ; 
in  consequence  of  which,  I  became  disconten- 


# 


26 


LIFE   OF    W.    B.    LIGIITON. 


M 


I  m ; 


;!!■  i 


l!    ■'    t| 


I     i 


ted  and  dissatisfied,  and  yet,  I  durst  not  com 
plain.  My  complaints  were  sliut  up  within  my 
own  bosom.  I  became  dejected  and  gloomy, 
forlorn  and  miserable.  I  thought  of  home,  yet 
I  knew  if  I  returned  thither,  my  case  would 
not  be  improved.  My  parents,  instead  of  sym- 
pathising with  me,  would  be  angry  and  treat 
me  with  coldness.  How  oflen  did  I  sigh  for  a 
mother^s  tender  and  affectionate  care,  but  alas  ! 
my  mother  was  in  her  grave  !  As  our  acquain- 
tance increased,  my  master  became  more  odi- 
ous to  me,  and  his  conduct  more  tyrannical. 
For  the  most  insignificant  trifles,  he  swore  and 
threatened,  as  if  an  evil  spirit  possessed  him, 
until  the  situation  of  a  galley-slave  appeared 
preferable  to  mine.  For  a  while,  I  strove  to 
be  obedient  to  endure  his  insults,  and  remain 
until  my  term  of  service  (one  year)  should  ex- 
pire. But  passion  and  discontent  gained  the 
ascendency,and  I  at  length  gave  way  to  a  care- 
less and  neglectful  manner  in  order  to  induce 
him  to  dismiss  me.  My  measure  had  its  desired 
effect.  One  morning  as  I  went  out  to  take 
care  of  his  sheep,  (  being  shepherd  boy,  )  which 
was  the  first  duty  of  the  day,  I  purposely  loi- 
tered by  the  way,  so  that  I  did  not  return  so 
early  as  I  should  have  done.  On  coming  near 
the  house,  my  master  met  me  with  his  volley 
of  abuse, and  after  exhausting  his  stock  of  oaths 
threatened  to  kick  me  over  a  ten  feet  tvall, 
\vhich  I  thought  would  be  doing  well,  as  it 
might  serve  as  a  preventative  of  future  troub- 
les provided  we  both  kept  our  respective  sides. 


IH 


M' 


EITOJV. 


LIFK  OF  W.  15.  l.ICillTOIN. 


27 


urst  not   com 
:  up  within  my 
and   gloomy, 
t  of  home,  yet 
y  case  would 
nstead  of  sym- 
gry   and  treat 
d  I  sigh  for  a 
;are,  but  alas  ? 
s  our  acquain- 
ime  more  odi- 
e    tyrannical, 
he  swore  and 
ossessed  him, 
ive   appeared 
,  I   strove   to 
,  and  remain 
r)  should  ex- 
nt  gained  the 
^ay  to  a  care- 
er to  induce 
ad  its  desired 
out  to  take 
boy,)  which 
irposely    loi- 
ot  return  so 
coming  near 
th  his  volley 
ock  of  oaths 
n  feet   tvally 
J  well,  as  it 
iture  troub- 
Bctive  sides. 


However,  I  made  no  reply  until  he  ordered  me 
to  follow  him  to  the  house  and  he  would  dis- 
charge nic  immediately  ;  a  command,  which  I 
informed  him  1  would  impticitely  obey. 

Upon  this  he  moderated  his  passion,  and 
tried  to  persuade  me  to  stay,  promising  to  use 
me  better  in  future  ;  I  was,  however,  proof  to 
all  his  entreaties,  and  utterly  refused  all,  and 
every  term  of  reconciliation, and  having  received 
about  thirty  shillings  as  the  wages  of  my  servi- 
tude ;  left  him,  and  pursued  my  way  towards 
Boston,  resolving  to  go  any  where,  rather  than 
to  return  home. 

My  way  led  through  a  distant  part  of  my 
father's  parish,  and  unwilling  to  be  detected,  I 
took  up  my  lodging  some  part  of  the  day,  in  a 
dry  ditch  where  I  slept  soundly,  notwithstand- 
ing a  heavy  shower  of  rain  which  fell  that 
afternoon.  Towards  night,  I  resumed  my 
iourney,  and  meeting  a  shepherd  boy,  who 
was  acquainted  with  my  brothers,  I  sent 
word  by  him  to  my  parents,  that  I  had  left 
the  employ  of  Mr.  H.,  and  had  gone  to  a  dis- 
tance, to  seek  another  situation.  Upon  arri- 
ving at  Boston,  I  sought  the  shelter  of  a  tavern, 
but  on  entering  it  observed  some  of  my  father's 
neighbors.  Fearful  of  discovery,  I  left  it  in 
haste,  and  sought  a  place  of  greater  security. 
Having  passed  the  night  very  much  dejected, 
I  proceeded  in  the  morning  early,  towards 
Spilsby,  where  I  arrived  in  the  evening.  The 
next  morning  I  left  the  place,  in  company  with 
a  drover,  who  persuaded  me  to  accompany  him 


28 


I-IFE   OP  w.  B.  LIGHTON. 


castle,  .  place  at  some  dlin^:"'.  J'" '"?  ?"™- 
to  drive  a  drove  of 'cattle    %!!     •  *^*""   ''''n 
e'-n  for  refreshment  An.K   ^'"PP'^g  at  a  tav- 
^ith  the  landlord  ?o'  become  h'^^^'  '   «"S'««« 
my  return  from  HorncasZ       A  P""'  «««' 
hard  travel,  the  even[nrhpL»'u  ^''*'"  »  ''ay', 
cattle,  safely  lodged  l^hiKf''  '"^'  ^'"^^^  and 
The  drover  herrseeraedtnf"'^  "r^''  P'""- 
I  had  rendered  him   and  t?  ?"■?'  "''^  «^"i<=c8 
feet   stranger,  anZConly  tSm"?  "^  ^  P^^' 
was   a  piece  of  dry   bread      p  ",•     ""ece'ved 
abused,  and  havin/no  d^^l  •.*''^'"'g  myself 
I  retired  to   bed,  w'here  X'      "  ■'"  ''""''«*«. 
•ngratitude  of  man   a^H'.^h       '"^""g  ««  the 

to  my  temper  of  mi„d"  I  Mil  f"^^^"'"'  «"•»««> 
while,  forgot  mv  sorrowt  *®",»*'eep,  and  for  a 

Early  iLh^L".^°r/,"iP7P'««''e«- 
castle,  and  proceeded  fo^'?^  ''"^^  "^  Horn- 
gathering,  li  went  alo2  th  TP'*'>""«»«. 
heaven  has  bestowed  on  ml'  It  1?"'  '''•«» 
tuted  my  chief  support  ?hSh. I,  ^""^  •'°»*''- 
«"ying  at  my  new  masteM.  ^  ^''^-  "P»« 
quainted  with  the  duties  d^il  "^"^^  "«  »«* 
requiring  a  strict  attentll  r"'"""?  "P""  me, 

f  "e  of  all  committed  °oZ^«  '"^  °  '""""^ 
injunctions  I  strove   to  ,Z^„''?*'Pmg-     These 

manner,  sparing  nehher  im?  "  '''^  ^'"ctest 
them  into  effect"  But  i  ^on  T  P*'"^  *»  P»« 
fault-finding,  was  with  himnA^T"^^'^^  *hat 
probably,  had  been  „corl„f '^'^T^""'  ^^ich 

*-.andw:.chhadm"Er;osre£^- 


:0N. 

V 

'nted.     From 
him  to  Horn- 
>  assist   him 
>ing  at  a  tav- 
')  I   engaged 
groom,  after 
fter  a  day's 
J,  drover  and 
lamed  place, 
the  services 
ne  as  a  per- 
I    received 
ling  myself 
to  retaliate, 
;»ng   on   the 
jects,  suited 
»,  and  for  a 
3xities. 
'e  of  Horn- 
mploymeat, 
ruits     kind 
^is  consti- 
ay.    Upon 
de  me  ac- 
upon  me, 
a  serious 
These 
strictest 
ains  to  put 
veered   that 
per,  which 
th  his  na- 
>le  for  do- 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


29 


mesticfl  to  remain  long  in  his  employ.  The  ne- 
cessity of  my  case  induced  me  to  bear  his  tyr- 
anny as  patiently  as  possible  until  he  became 
so  disgustingly  harsh  and  morose  that  I  deter- 
mined to  seek  employment  at  some  other  place. 
My  state,  indeed,  was  but  very  little  better 
than  that  of  a  slave  ;  my  life  being  one  contin- 
ual scene  of  toil  and  labor,  without  cessation. 
Even  the  holy  Sabbath  brought  me  no  relief, 
as  on  that  day,  I  had  to  take  a  horse  to  a  cler- 
gyman, four  miles  distant,  and  return  on  foot, 
before  breakfast  ;  and  in  the  evening  to  go  on 
foot  to  bring  it  back  again.  Added  to  this,  I 
was  not  supplied  with  wholesome  food,  my  diet 
consisting  of  a  little  meat,  half  boiled,  and 
bread  made  of  the  coarsest  materials,  scarcely 
baked,  and  so  full  of  coals  that  I  thought  they 
made  it  up  with  a  paddle-stick,  and  threw  it  on 
the  ash-heap  to  receive  a  moderate  scorching. 
This,  together  with  the  cruel  abuse  I  suffered 
continually  from  my  master,  made  my  situation 
almost  intolerable.  One  morning,  my  master 
having  abused  me  most  unmercifully,  I  went 
to  a  neighboring  clergyman,  who  was  a  magis- 
trate, in  order  to  obtain  redress.  Unfortunate- 
ly, he  was  from  home  or,  (as  I  was  afterwards 
informed,)  he  would  have  assisted  me  in  pro- 
curing it,  as  he  had  long  been  acquainted  with 
the  brutal  manner  he  had  treated  his  depen- 
dents. I  applied  to  the  next  justice,  a  gentle- 
man of  high  rank,  who,  instead  of  assisting 
me,  indignantly  expressed  his  surprise,  that  a 
boy  of  my  age,  should  have  the  presumption  to 


m 


M 


30 


LIFE  OF  W.  IJ.  LICHTON. 


prosecute  a  man,  whose  superior  influence,  he 
said,  would  crush  uie  in  dcliance  of  all    that  I 
could    say   or  do.       He  said   he    "  suspected 
that   I  was  as  deep  in  the  mud  as  my    mas- 
ter was  in  the  mire,"  and  that  1  **  had  better  go 
home  and  tell  my  master  to  get  a  stick  and   give 
me  a  good  jlogging  /"     As  niip^ht  be  expected, 
I  was  no  more  pleased  with  the  justice's  mode 
of  law  dealing,  than  with  his  insulting  expres- 
sions ;  and  amused  myself,  as  I  returned  back 
to  my  place,  with  the  consideration,  that  had  I 
the   means,  I   would  get   a  warrant   for  both, 
and    crush   them   instead  of  their  crushing  me. 
I  should  have  left  this  tyrant  of  an  innkeep- 
er immediately,  had  it  not  been  for  an  existing 
obligation,    by   which    it   was    agreed    that    a 
month's  notice  should  be  given  by  either  party, 
previous  to  separation.     However,  I  gave  him 
immediate  notice  I  should  leave  his  service  in 
one  month,  according  to  agreement.       During 
this  last  month  of  my  service  I  was  discovered 
in   the  following   providential  manner.      One 
day,  being  employed  as  usual,  a  boy  came  and 
questioned  me  about  my  home  and  parents,  in 
such  a  manner  as  showed  him  to  be  acquainted 
with  my  circumstances.     From   him  I  learnt, 
that  it  was  intended,  by    a   gentleman  in   the 
neighborhood,  to  write  to  my  father  concerning 
my  situation,  and  that  I  might  expect  my  father 
after  me.     To  avoid  this,  I  promised  to  write 
myself,  which  I  accordingly  did,  giving  a  true 
and  circumstantial  account  of  my  proceedings, 
promising  to  returm  home,  as  soon  as  my  time 


i" 


I    :i^ 


rojv. 

influence,  he 
of  all   that  I 

"  suspected 
as  my    mas- 
had  better  go 
ich  and  give 
be  expected, 
st ice's  mode 
ting  expres- 
turned  back 
,  that  had  I 
It   for  both, 
rushing  me. 
an  innkeep- 

an  existing 
>ed  that  a 
ither  party, 
I  gave  him 

service  in 

During 

discovered 

er.      One 

came  and 
)arents,  in 

cquainted 
learnt, 
in  the 
mcerning 
my  father 
to  write 

ig  a  true 

jeedings, 

my  time 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


31 


I 

tin 


of  hire  should  be  expired.  This  however,  I 
did,  not  because  I  meant  to  return  home,  but 
because  I  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  having 
my  father  como  to  carry  me  thither.  The 
reader  is  perhiips  wondering  how  the  boy  just 
mentioned,  became  aware  of  my  condition. 
With  his  [>utienc-e,I  will  show  him.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  1  sent  won'  by  a  shepherd 
boy,  to  my  parents,  at  the  time  I  absconded,  a 
considerable  period  elapsed  before  they  receiv- 
ed it,  which  they  no  sooner  did,  than  they  were 
filled  with  anxiety  and  consternation.  My 
father  visited  the  gentleman  with  whom  I  had 
lived,  who  informed  him  I  had  left  his  service 
about  two  months  since,  with  a  design,  as  he 
supposed,  of  returning  home.  Upon  hearing 
this,  what  were  the  agonies  of  his  parental  bo- 
som can  only  be  conceived  by  those  who  have 
recreant  sons.  When  he  thought  of  my  youth, 
my  inexperience,  and  my  danger,  wandering 
about  the  country,  exposed,  for  ought  he  knew, 
to  hunger,  storm  and  nakedness,  and  more 
than  this,  to  the  wiles  of  sharpers,  and  the 
calls  of  vice,  lie  trembled  for  my  safety,  and 
offered  many  a  prayer  for  my  preservation. 
Sleep  was  banislied  from  his  pillow,  or  if  it 
came,  it  was  only  to  perplex  him  with  dreams 
of  horror  and  visions  of  his  lost  son,  surround- 
ed with  danger,  or  engulphed  in  misery.  He 
made  every  possible  inquiry,  but  without  suc- 
cess, until  at  a  party,  in  his  neighborhood,  he 
happened  to  mention  the  subject  ;  a  gentleman 
from  the  place  where  I  was  living,  who  was  on 


32 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  IJGHTON. 


I     t 


I. 


VJ 


a  visit  to  his  friends,  was  one  of  the  party,  ob- 
served that  a  boy  answering  the  description 
given,  was  living  at  a  Mr.  H's,  as  a  groom  : 
upon  which  he  was  requested  to  make  inquiry, 
and  forward  what  information  he  could,  as 
*'«peedily  as  convenient.  The  result  of  this  re- 
quest, the  reader  has  seen  in  the  preceding 
page. 

After  my  father  had  heard  from  me,  he  sent 
twice  by  two  different  gentlemen,  to  ascertain 
my  circumstances,  relieve  my  wants,  and  im- 
portune me  to  return  honye.  But  though  I 
was  needy,  I  was  nevertheless,  proof  to  all 
their  kindnesses  and  my  parents  love.  Young 
reader,  may  God  grant,  you  may  never  be 
guilty  of  a  breach  of  parental  obedience  ! 
My  time  at  length  expired,  and  I  left  Mr.  H., 
but  dreading  to  meet  my  father's  frown,  I  did 
not  return  home,  notwithstanding  my  promises, 
but  went  to  work  as  a  day  laborer,  in  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town.  In  this  despicable  situation 
1  remained  for  some  time,  but  wages  being  low, 
and  labor  scarce,  it  was  with  difficulty  I  pro- 
cured a  scanty  subsistance,  which  induced  me 
to  leave  the  place  for  the  purpose  of  offering 
myself  as  a  soldier. 

Before  I  take  leave  of  this  town,  (the  name 
of  which  I  have  forgotten)  I  cannot  forbear  re- 
lating one  anecdote.  While  acting  as  groom, 
I  was  sent  one  morning  to  the  lodge  of  a  neigh- 
boring gentleman,  when  I  obtained  permission 
to  visit  his  hunting  establishment.  It  contain- 
ed  a    pack  of  hounds,  (fifty-two  is   called  a 


>N. 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


33 


le  party,  ob- 
description 
3  a  groom  : 
ake  inquiry, 
e  could,  as 
It  of  this  re- 
Q  preceding 

me,  he  sent 

to  ascertain 

its,  and  im- 

t   though    I 

proof  to   all 

7e.     Young 

/   never   be 

obedience  ! 

ft   Mr.  H., 

own,  I   did 

y  promises, 

the  out- 

e  situation 

being  low, 

ty   I   pro- 

nduced  me 

of  offering 

(the  name 
brbear  re- 
as  groom, 
f  a  neigh- 
B)ermission 
t  contain- 
called  a 


pack,)  which  were  all  accommodated  with 
lodging,  in  a  spacious  and  well  arranged  build- 
ing called  a  Dog-kennel  ;  in  which  was  a 
cook  house,  and  servants  to  keep  every  thing 
in  order  in  relation  to  these  animals  ;  so  much 
so,  that  thousands  of  poor  men  in  the  kingdom 
would  think  themselves  happy  with  a  far  less 
share  of  provision  and  comfort.  Upon  enter- 
ing, I  found  abundance  of  oatmeal-puddingy 
prepared  for  their  entertainment,  and  a  large 
stock  of  the  raw  material,  awaiting  their  con- 
sumption. Being  remarkably  fond  of  oatmeal, 
and  hungry  withal,  I  commenced  eating  the 
raw  material,  and  filling  my  mouth  and  hands 
with  it,  was  about  to  leave  the  establishment, 
when  the  cook  removed  the  cover  from  a  huge 
boiler,  filled  with  horse  flesh,  the  efiiluvia  of 
which,  so  affected  my  olfactory  nerves  as  to 
empty  my  mouth,  stomach  and  hands  of  their 
plenteous  store  of  oatmeal,  with  which  they 
had  been  so  liberally  filled.  Since  that  time, 
oatmeal  has  been  my  abhorrence. 

I  now  left  for  Horncastle,  as  I  have  stated, 
to  seek  a  place  in  my  country's  service,  think- 
ing there  to  find  support  and  comfort.  I  soon 
found  the  recruiting  party  belonging  to  the 
second  regiment  of  life  guards,  and  offered 
myself  to  them,  but  was  rejected  as  being  too 
short.  Determined  not  to  be  disappointed,  I 
set  out  for  Lincoln.  The  weather  being  severe 
and  stormy,  as  a  heavy  an.d  deep  snow  had  fal- 
len, followed  by  rain,  I  found  it  very  diflicult 
travelling.     In  consequence  of  the  inclemency 


34 


LIFE  OF  VV.  B.  LIGiiiON. 


mil  > 


'tl 


m 


of  the  season,  the  road  I  travelled  was  almost 
lined,  in  some  places,  with  ^aine  ;  such  as 
partridges,  pheasants,  SvC. ;  which  were  so 
tame,  a  man  might  easily  have  caught  them, 
without  much  trouble,  but  for  that  unrighteous 
and  tyrannical  law  which  forbad  him,  on  pain 
of  the  severest  penalties. 

Arriving  at  Lincoln,  I  offered  .^.lyself  a  sec- 
ond time  to  a  recruiting  party,  of  the  33d  Reg, 
of  Infantry,  but  was  rejected  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple as  before  mentioned.  These  repeated 
disappointments  robbed  me  of  my  spirits,  and 
made  me  the  victim  of  despondency  ;  hope  for- 
sook my  bosom  ;  prosperity  was  hidden  from  my 
view  ;  poverty,  with  a  ghastly  look ,  stared  me 
in  the  face  ;  home,  with  all  its  pleasures,  flitted 
across  my  memory,  and  in  the  language  of  the 
prodigal,  I  said,  ''  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my 
father."  The  next  Sabbath,  in  the  afternoon,  1 
arrived  at  my  father's  house.  My  parents  re- 
ceived me  with  joy  and  kindness,  and  by  their 
affectionate  manner  beguiled  me  into  a  relation 
of  my  troubles  and  wanderings,  at  the  same 
time,  giving  me  such  advice  as  parental 
love  deemed  necessary  for  my  safety.  Would 
that  I  had  obeyed  it;  then  should  I  have  escaped 
much  of  my  subsequent  sufferings  !  A  few  of 
the  next  months  of  my  life  were  spent  at  home, 
peacefully  and  pleasantly.  The  following  sum- 
mer, a  gentleman  in  an  adjoining  town  applied 
for  my  services.  I  accordingly  entered  his 
employ,  hoping  to  experience  better  treatment 
than  heretofore.     33ut   here  my   hard  fortune 


■.'7 


J 


ON. 


LIFE  OF  W.  B-  LIGHTON. 


35 


d  was  almost 
lie  ;  such  as 
ch  were  so 
aught  them, 
unrighteous 
nin,  on    pain 

lysclf  a  sec- 
he  33d  Reg. 
e  same  prin- 
3se   repeated 
Y  spirits,  and 
y  ',  hope  for- 
den  from  my 
i ,  stared  me 
sures,  flitted 
^uage  of  the 
d  go   to   my 
afternoon,  1 
parents   re- 
md  by  their 
o  a  reLition 
t  the   same 
parental 
Would 
ave  escaped 
A  few  of 
nt  at  home, 
owing  sum- 
3wn  applied 
entered  his 
•   treatment 
ard  fortune 


is 


followed  me.  My  master,  though  a  professed 
Christian,  was  passionate  and  cruel.  Twice 
during  my  stay,  he  whipped  me,  and  that  too 
most  unjustly.  In  the  month  of  September,  he 
was  visited  with  aflliction,  and  during  its  contin- 
uance, I  resolved  to  leave  him  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, notwithstanding  my  former  painful  expe- 
rience in  running  away. 

One  day  meeting  \vith  an  old  acquaintance,  I 
told  him  the  story  of  my  woes.  He  persuaded 
me  to  go  with  him  to  Stamford,  to  join  a  militia 
corps,  which  was  to  assemble  in  a  few  days  for 
a  month's  duty.  I  consented,  and  immediately 
returned  to  my  master's  for  a  few  articles  of 
clothing, where  I  found  my  brother  Thomas, who 
had  come  to  pay  me  a  visit.  But  framing  a 
hasty  excuse,  I  contrived  to  persuade  him  to 
visit  me  at  some  other  opportunity,  and  rejoic- 
ing in  my  iniquity,  I  soon  joined  my  companion, 
and  we  set  out  together  for  the  aforementioned 
place. 

Thus  a  second  time,  I  threw  myself  from  the 
arms  of  friends,  and  voluntarily  exposed  myself 
to  the  worst  of  evils.  How  thoughtless,  how 
foolish,  and  how  impatient  are  young  people  ! 
And  how  good  has  God  been  to  me,  in  causing 
me  to  escape  the  "  wiles  of  the  devil,"  and 
teaching  me  the  way  to  repose  on  the  bosom  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

After  a  hard  day's  travel,  we  stopped  at  a 
tavern,  when,  to  my  surprise,  I  learnt  that  my 
companion  was  destitute  of  money,  and  depen- 
ded upon  me  for  support.  To  meet  his  require- 
ments, I  sold  a  watch,  and  before  we  arrived  at 
4 


f 


86 


Ui'E  OF  W.  B.  LIOHTON. 


I  i( 


i 


Stamford,  my  last  shillingwas  changed  to  gratify 
his  intemperance.     Finding  ihat   his   company 
would  ultimately   produce  my  ruin,  I  forsook 
him,  and  was  left  alone,  in  the  midst  of  a  large 
population,  whose  hardened   sympathies   were 
not  easily  awakened  by  the  language  of  distress, 
or  the  tear  of  sorrow.     I  again  had  recourse  to 
my  old  method,  and  offered  myself  to  a  regiment 
in  the  place,  but  with  the  same  success  as  be- 
fore.    Necessity,  now  induced  me  to  sell  every 
article  of  clothing  which  in  decency  could  be 
dispensed  with,  and  meeting  with   a  youth  in 
circumstances  similar  to  my  own,  I  left  Stam- 
ford in  his  company,  to  travel  where  fortune  or 
!^rovidence  might  direct.     The  trifling  sums  of 
money  we  possessed  were  soon  exhausted,  and 
our  last  farthing  expended  for  provision,  and  be- 
ing unable  to  obtain  employment,  we  had  no 
other  alternative  but  to  throw  ourselves  on  pub- 
lic charity  for  support.     The  idea  that  we  were 
in  the  situation  of  common  beggars,  exposed  to 
the  anathemas  of  those  to  whom  we  might  ap- 
ply for  aid,  was  galling  in  the  extreme,  but  the 
calls  of  hunger,  becoming  more  loud  and  vocif* 
erous,  we  presented  ourselves  at  the  door  of  a 
wealthy  farmer,  and  with  a  piteous  tone,  told 
our  affecting  tale,  but  his  heart,  rendered  hard 
by  familiarity  with  distress,  refused  to  be  mel- 
ted, and,  with  every  indication  of  displeasure, 
he  bid  us  go  our  way.     Thus  failed,  in  our  first 
attempt,  we  proceeded  on  our  journey,  faint  and 
weary  ;  and,  in  all  probability,  might  have  sunk 
from  exhaustion,  had  not  my  companion  found 


ON. 

iged  to  gratify 
his  company 
I  in,  I  forsook 
1st  of  a  large 
pathies   were 
ge  of  distress, 
d  recourse  to 
to  a  regiment 
access  as  be- 
3  to  sell  every 
incy  could  be 
;h   a  youth  in 
,  I  left  Stam- 
ere  fortune  or 
•ifling  sums  of 
xhausted,  and 
k^ision,  and  be- 
lt, we  had  no 
elves  on  pub- 
that  we  were 
rs,  exposed  to 
we  might  ap- 
Ireme,  but  the 
>ud  and  vocif- 
the  door  of  a 
►us  tone,  told 
jndered  hard 
led  to  be  mel- 
displeasure, 
!d,  in  our  first 
|ney,  faint  and 
[ht  have  sunk 
►anion  found 


LIFE  OF  W.  D.  LIGHTON. 


37 


a  distant  relation  of  his,  in  that  part  of  the 
country  through  which  we  passed,  from  whom 
we  obtained  a  morsel^  the  old  woman  (his  rela- 
tive) being  any  thing  but  a  cheerful  giver.  Wo 
arrived  that  night  at  Sleaford,  a  populous  town, 
ornamented  with  elegant  modern  buildings,  an- 
cient edificles,  the  remains  of  gothic  splendors, 
and  beautiful,  in  no  small  degree,  with  the  most 
delightful  of  nature's  productions.  But  alas  f 
to  me  all  was  uninteresting  and  sad  ;  for  out  of 
the  numerous  habitations,  not  one  afforded  me 
shelter  ;  out  of  the  prolific  stores  of  food  it 
contained,  not  one  morsel  offered  itself  to  meet 
my  pressing  wants.  I  felt  solitary,  amid  the 
hundreds  who  flocked  along  the  busy  streets.  I 
sighed  for  my  father's  house. 

After  some  consultation,  we  agreed  to  seek  a 
shelter  under  the  roof  of  some  friendly  inn, 
though  conscious  that  we  had  not  wherewith  to 
pay  our  bills,  and  unwilhng  to  cheat  to  any 
amount,  we  retired  to  bed  without  any  thing  to 
eat  for  supper.  But,  so  great  was  our  fatigue, 
that  we  slept  but  little,  and  when  the  first  beams 
of  the  morning  shed  their  rays  into  our  cham- 
ber, we  rose, and  with  much  trepidation,  descen- 
ded the  stairs,  when,  finding  none  but  the  do- 
mestics of  the  house  stirring,  we  bade  them 
prepare  breakfast  by  the  time  of  our  return 
from  a  short  walk  ;  but  we  took  a  road  we  nev- 
er retraced,  and  thus  cheated  them  out  of  their 
due  for  our  accommodation.  Here  again,  my 
companion  discovered  an  old  acquaintance, 
from  whom  wo  obtained  a  hearty  meal. 


^ 


36 


I 


LIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


We  now  shaped  our  course  to  Lincoln,  being 
obliged  to  beg  our  support  on  the  way.  We 
applied  for  relief  at  a  rich  gentleman's  house, 
the  lady  of  which,  gave  us  such  a  supply  of 
food,  that  it  sustained  us  through  the  day. 
Late  in  the  evening  we  entered  the  city,  and 
adopted  the  same,  measure  for  a  lodging,  as 
before,  but  with  less  success.  For  on  leaving 
the  house  in  the  morning,  we  were  pursued  by 
some  of  the  family  and  overtaken,  but  after 
receiving  a  severe  reprehension,  were  permitted 
to  proceed. 

Lincoln,  the  capital  of  Lincolnshire,  is  one 
of  the  most  noted  cities  in  jb^ngland,  that  indu- 
ces me  to  speak  a  little  about  it  here,which  may 
not  be  uninteresting  to  the  reader.  *^It  is  seat- 
.  d  on  the  side  of  a  steep  hill  on  the  Witham, 
which  here  divides  into  two  streams.  It  had 
formerly,  fifty  churches,  now  reduced  to  thir- 
teen, besides  the  Cathedral.  The  Cathedral  is 
admired  for  its  interior  architecture,  which  is 
the  richest,  and  lightest  Gothic  style,  and  its 
great  bell,  called  'J'om,  of  Lincoln,  requires 
twelve  men  to  ring  it." 

Leaving  this  place  we  were  completely  dis- 
couraged. Our  hearts  sunk  within  us.  We 
talked  about  home,  and  its  former  comforts,  un- 
til we  were  filled  with  grief,  and  mortified  at 
our  disappointments,  and  yet,  seeing  no  way  to 
prosper,  we  agreed  to  go  back  to  our  parents. 
With  aching  hearts  and  wearied  limbs  we  com- 
menced our  journey  homewards,  pursuing  our 
way  in  gloomy  silence,    for  our  sorrows  were 


'*! 


Si. 


LIFE  OF  W.  D.  LIGHTON. 


39 


coin,  being 

way.     We 

m's  house, 

supply  of 

the  day . 
3  city,  and 
odging,  as 
on  leaving 
pursued  by 

but  after 
e  permitted 

ire,  is  one 
>  thatindu- 
^which  may 
"It  is  seat- 
p  Witham, 
s.  It  had 
;ed  to  thir- 
Jathedral  is 
which  is 
le,  and  its 
I,  requires 

Dletely  dis- 
us.  We 
nforts,  un- 
lortified  at 
no  way  to 
r  parents. 
\s  we  com- 
rsuing  our 
ows  were 


4 


too  big  for  utterance.  On  the  way,  I  was  for- 
tunate to  hire  out  to  a  gentleman  who  also  took 
pity  on  us  and  gave  us  something  to  eat.  I 
agreed  to  return  and  fulfil  my  engagaements  on 
Monday,  the  following  week.  He  gave  me  a 
shilling,  as  earnest  money^  on  which  we  subsist- 
ed the  rest  of  the  way  home.  Upon  arriving 
near  my  father's,  my  companion  left  me  and  I 
saw  him  no  more 

Being  left  alone,  I  retired  to  a  lonely  spot, 
where,  in  happier  days,  I  had  indulged  in  many 
a  flight  of  youthful  fancy.     But  now,  dejection 
sat  upon  my  brow,  and  sorrow  brooded  around 
my  heart.     The  solemn  stillness  of  nature  ac- 
corded with  my  feelings,  and  seemed  to  sympa- 
thize in  my  distress.     Here  I  stayed,  absorbed 
in  deep  reflection,  until  the  appearance  of  my 
brother  Thomas,  aroused  me  to  a  sense  of  my 
situation.     His  presence,  for  a  while,  soothed 
my  feelings,  until  he  informed  me  that  my  father 
was  highly  incensed  against  me  for  my  rebel- 
lious conduct.     Then  my  grief  became  insup- 
portable, and  I  scarcely  dared  make  my  return 
known  to  the  rest  of  the  family.     At  length  I 
ventured  to  appear  before  my  offended  father, 
who  was  so  charged  with  grief  and  passion, 
that  he  treated  me   with  the  most  distant  cold- 
ness.    He  talked  to  me  seriously,  as  though  he 
was  doing  it  for  the  last  time  ;    and  gave  me 
some  very  strict  injunctions  in  regard  to  my  fu- 
ture life  and  conduct,  to  which  I  promised  im- 
plicit obedience. 

It  being  on  the  Sabbath  day,  \Vhen  I  arrived 
4» 


40 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


i  r' 


at  home,  I  was  under  the  necessity  of  returning 
back  to  my  place  on  the  morrow,  as  it  was  the 
time  I  had  agreed  upon  with  the  gentleman  by 
whom  I  was  hired.  I  accordingly  informed  my 
father  of  my  engagement,  and  stated  my  wish 
was  to  fulfil  my  obligation,  to  which  he  answer- 
ed in  an  angry  manneVy^HIiatl  might  go,  and  he 
wished  I  7icver  would  come  hack  again,  jor  he 
never  wanted  to  see  me  more,  and  he  cared  not 
where  I  went,  or  what  became  of  r.ie  /"  This  an- 
swer of  my  father,  and  the  feelings  he  manifes- 
ted towards  me,  stung  me  to  the  very  heart. 
Indeed  it  was  like  the  shock  of  a  thunderbolt. 
It  rendered  me  powerless  to  say  or  do  any 
thing  that  might  atone  for  the  grief  I  had  occa- 
sioned him.  I  wished  for  the  hour  of  separa- 
tion as  one  that  was  anxious  to  be  delivered 
from  a  heavy  doom.  I  thought  too,  as  he  pos- 
sessed such  feelings  towards  me,  I  never  could 
occasion  him  any  more  trouble  by  returning 
home,  but  would,  (if  I  could  not  succeed  in 
domestic  service,)  enter  the  service  of  my 
country,  or  go  to  some  foreign  part,  rather  than 
home. 

Early  in  the  morning,  I  was  visited  by  Mr. 
Ingram,  a  neighboring  gentleman  of  advanced 
age,  who  reasoned  with  me,  and  counselled  me 
as  a  tender  father,  telling  me  for  my  encour- 
agement, my  father's  design  to  settle  me  in  bu- 
siness, as  soon  as  my  age  and  experience  in  the 
world  would  be  commendable.  After  present- 
ing me  with  a  small  sum  of  money,  he  took  his 
farewell  of  me  and  we  parted.     While  I  was 


LIFE  OF  W.  IJ.  LIGIITON. 


41 


eturning 
L  was  the 
icman  by 
rmed  my 
my  wish 
I  answer- 
0,  and  he 
n,  Jor  he 
cared  not 
This  aii- 
manifes- 
sry  heart, 
nderbolt. 
f  do  any 
iad  occa- 
f  separa- 
delivered 
s  he  pos- 
VGX  could 
returning 
cceed  in 
B  of  my 
ther  than 

by  Mr. 
advanced 
elled  me 
encour- 
ne  in  bu- 
ce  in  the 
present- 
took  his 
le  I  was 


meditating  on  what  he  had  said  and  done  for 
me,  I  was  met  by  my  father,  who  I  perceived 
still  retained  the  same  feelings  towards  me.  He 
was  about  to  attend  some  business  from  home, 
and  was  all  prepared  to  proceed,  when  we  met 
again  for  the  last  time,  and  parted  without  say- 
ing a  word.  I  gazed  upon  him  as  he  receded 
from  me  in  hopes  he  would  return  and  give  me 
one  consolitory  word,  together  with  his  farewell 
advice  ;  but  he  passed  on  and  left  me  in  cruel 
silence.  Since  which  time  I  have  never  had 
the  satisfaction  to  see  him  ! 

This,  to  me,  was  worse  than  death.     To  be 
treated  with  neglect  by  one   who  had  always 
been  one  of  the  kindest  of  fathers.     My  soul 
was  pained,  though  I  could  not  but  attribute  it 
to  my  own  folly,  and  misconduct.     And  now, 
dear  young  reader,   permit  me  to  give  you  a 
word  of  advice    and  caution,  on  this  important 
subject  ;   viz.  obedience  to  parents.     If  you 
enjoy  them,  it  is  your  duty  to  obey  them.  They 
are  the  authors  of  your  being,  and  under  God, 
have  been  the   means  of  your   preservation. 
They  have  afforded  you  all  in  their  power,  to 
make  you  respectable  in  life.     Then  love  them 
for  it.     Remember  there  is  a  degree  of  affec- 
tionate respect  which  is  due  to  parents,  that  no 
person  else  can  properly  claim.     For  a  consid- 
erable time,  parents  stand,  as  it  were,  in  the 
place  of  God  to  their  children  ;    and  therefore, 
rebellion  against  their  lawful  commands,  has 
been  considered  as  rebellion  against  God.  How 
then  can  you  expect  mercy  from  him,  until  you 


I  i 


l^ 


I    ll 


I      1 


JW 


I! 


: 


1  f 

ft: 


i  I 


111 


I:  ) 


n 


42 


LIFE   OF    W.    B.    LIGHTON. 


obey  your  parents  ?  Nay,  you  never  will  find 
mercy  from  him  whose  injunction  is,  "Children 
obey  your  parents  in  the  Lord,"  until  you  are 
fully  resolved  to  obey  this  important  principle. 
See  Col.  iii.  20.  Eph.  vi.  1.  3Iatt.  xv.  4. 
Exod.  XX.  12. 

The  disregard  of  this  requirement  is  the 
cause  of  a  vast  proportion  of  the  individual 
wretchedness,  sorrow,  misery  and  death,  found 
in  the  world.  Most  who  come  to  an  untimely 
end,  are  obliged  to  confess,  that  this,  with  the 
breach  of  the  Sahbathy  were  the  principal  causes 
of  their  ruin.  Reader  !  art  thou  guilty  ?  Take 
timely  warning,  humble  thyself,  therefore,  be- 
fore Ood,  and  repent,  or  thou  wilt  be  damned 
for  ever.  From  such  a  curse,  may  God  save 
us  ail ! 

After  breakfast  my  mother  informed  me  of 
her  intention  to  accompany  me  as  far  as  Bos- 
ton. Accordingly  we  prepared  for  our  depart- 
ure, when  I  took  an  aftectionate  farewell  of  the 
family,  telling  my  brother  Thomas  in  particular, 
I  should  not  see  them  at  least,  for  ten  years. 
They  joined  in  giving  me  expressions  of  regard, 
and  I  left  the  endearing  circle.  But  O  !  what 
were  my  feelings  ?  I  cannot  describe  them. 
My  heart  sunk  within  me  ;  and  I  was  led  to 
give  vent  to  my  feelings  in  a  flood  of  grief,  as  I 
looked  back  for  the  last  time,  to  take  a  farewell 
view  of  the  beloved  home  of  my  youth.  As  my 
mother  and  myself  proceeded  in  company,  she 
improved  her  time  in  giving  the  best  advice  of 
which   she   was   capable.      Upon   arriving  at 


T  will  find 
"Children 
il  you  are 
principle, 
itt.  XV.  4. 


nt  is  the 
Individual 
ith,  found 
untimely 
with  the 
)al  causes 
Y  ?  Take 
fore,  be- 
I  damned 
Jod  save 

id  me  of 
as  Bos- 

r  depart- 
sll  of  the 
irticular, 
n  years. 
^  regard, 
)  !  what 
>e  them. 
3  led  to 
ief,  as  I 
farewell 
As  my 
ny,  she 
Ivice  of 
ving  at 


\/  f 


THE  PARTING  SCENE 


LIFE  OF  W.  n.  LIGIITON. 


43 


Boston,  she  purchased  for  me  a  suit  of  clothes, 
and  then  accompanied  me  into  the  church-yard 
— there  in  solitude  to  take  her  last  embrace  of 
her  wayward  child.  That  sacred  spot — that 
lonely  grave-yard,  is  still  impressed  upon  my 
memory.  It  was  there,  my  mother  pressed  her 
last  warm  kiss  of  affection  to  my  burning 
cheeks  ;  there  I  received  her  last  embrace  ; 
there  I  heard  her  last  words.  They  still  float 
upon  my  ears,  even  now  do  I  seem  to  hear  her 
last  expression — "Farewell  my  son,  be  a  good 
boy." 

A  motliers's  love,  how  strong  it  binds  I 
Like  heavenly  bliss,  'tis  sweet,  and  dear, 
'Tie  there  distress,  a  solace,  finds. 
Her  love  we  trust  without  a  fear. 

We  parted  on  this  delightful  spot,  that  is  yet 
dear  to  my  memory.  The  solemnity  of  the 
place,  together  with  the  affecting  scene  of  sep- 
arating, had  such  a  lasting  and  powerful  charm 
that  it  has  rendered  the  grave-yard  a  desirable 
retreat  for  pious  meditation.  The  Jlast  faltering 
accents  which  fell  from  her  quivering  lips  will 
ever  be  remembered  with  strong  sentiments  of 
affectionate  regard.  O,  there  was  a  sacred 
sweetness  which  I  felt  in  her  voice,  as  she  ut- 
tered her  last  words,  that  has  such  a  charm 
upon  my  soul,  that  the  ago  of  time  will  never 
erase  !  And,  could  I  reward  her  for  the  love 
and  kindness  she  shewed  me,  in  this  my  never 
forgotten  trouble,  I  would,  with  the  utmost 
pleasure  and  delight,  seize  the  first  moments 


46 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


ever  dropped  from  the  lips  of  woman  kind,  es- 
pecially from  those  possessing  her  rank  in  life. 
Indeed  I  was  glad  when  I  had  brought  the  old 
lady  to  her  own  door,  and  thus  freed  myself 
from  the  company  of  an  abominable  old  scold. 
It  was  my  comfort,  on  my  way  back  to  reflect 
that  she  had  at  least,  partial  reward  in  the  mis- 
ery which  is  consequent  upon  the  possession 
of  so  vile  a  disposition.  "A  man  who  has  such 
a  woman  for  his  wife,  is  like  a  tenant  who  has 
got  a  cottage  with  a  bad  roof,  through  every 
part  of  which,  the  rain  either  drops  or  pours. 
He  can  neither  sit,  stand,  work,  eat,  drink  or 
sleep  without  being  exposed  to  these  droppings! 
Miserable  is  the  man  who  is  in  such  a  case, 
with  either  house  or  wife  ! " 

The  effect  of  this  scolding  was  that  the 
house-keeper  left  her  situation  ;  and  her  place 
was  supplied  by  one  the  very  opposite  of  her- 
self, and  the  exact  counterpart  of  our  old  scold. 
She  from  some  cause  or  other,  conceived  a  dis- 
like towards  me,  and  consequently,  poured 
volumes  of  complaints  against  me  into  the  ears 
of  my  employer,  who  believed  the  whole,  with 
no  other  evidence  than  her  assertion.  I  was 
thus  doomed  to  be  deprived  of  my  situation  ; 
for  one  morning  he  called  me,  and  presented 
me  with  the  miserable  sum  of  one  shilling, 
(which  was  all  I  received  for  about  six  weeks 
work)  and  told  me  I  might  consider  myself  dis- 
missed from  his  service. 

With  this  small  sum  I  left  for  Lincoln,  where 
I  spent  the  following  night  ;   from  thence,  after 


4» 


LIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


47 


I,  es- 
i  life, 
le  old 
lyself 
scold, 
•eflect 
3  mis- 
ession 
ssuch 
no  has 
every 
pours, 
nnk  or 
apings! 
a  case, 

lat  the 
r  place 
3f  her- 
l  scold, 
i  a  dis- 
poured 

e  ears 

J,  with 
I  was 

lation  ; 

jsented 

[hilling, 

weeks 

^elf  dis- 

I,  where 
,  after 


disposing  of  such  articles  of  clothing  as  I  could 
best  spare  to  obtain  means  to  travel  with,  I 
went  to  Doncaster,  and  from  thence  to  Leeds 
in  Yorkshire.     I  found  much  here  to  afford 
amusement,   and   to  divert  my  mind  from  my 
lonely  situation,  so  long  as  my  money  lasted  ; 
but  when  that  was  gone  every  hope  fled  with 
it.     Hence  the  old  proverb — "a  man  may  as 
well  be  without  his  brains  as  without  money  in 
England."     But  before  I  take  leave  of  this 
place  I  will  just  stop  to  mention  the  peculiar 
character  of  the  market ;   which  will  no  doubt, 
be  interesting  to  many  of  my  young  inquiring 
readers.     Leeds  has  been  a  long  time  famous 
for  the  woollen  manufacture,  and  is  one  of  the 
largest  and  most  flourishing  towns  in  the  coun- 
try.    The  market  is  perhaps  one  of  the  finest 
in  the  world.     The  mode  of  doing  business  is 
indeed  peculiarly  striking.     "At  6  o'clock  in 
the   summer,  and  about  7  in  the  winter  the 
market  bell  rings  ;  upon  which,  in  a  few  min- 
utes, without  hurry,  noise,  or  the  least  disor- 
der, the  whole  market  is  fllled,  all  the  benches 
covered  with  cloth,  as  close  to  one  another  as 
the  pieces  can  lie  longways,  each  proprietor 
standing  behind  his  own  peace.     As  soon  as 
the  bell  has  ceased  ringing  the   factors   and 
buyers,  of  all  sorts,  enter  the  hall,  and  walk  up 
and  down  between  the  rows,  as  their  occasions 
direct.     When  they  have  pitched  upon  their 
cloth,  they  lean  over  to  the  clothier,  and  by  a 
whisper,  in  the  fewest  words  imaginable,  the 
price  is  stated.     One  asks,  the  other  bids,  and 


48 


LIFE  \jt  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


they  agree  or  disagree  in  a  moment.  In  a  little 
more  than  an  hour  all  the  business  is  done,  ten 
or  twenty  thousand  pound's  worth  of  cloth,  and 
sometimes  more,  are  bought  and  sold  with  a 
whisper  only  ;  the  laws  of  the  market  here  be- 
ing more  strictly  observed  than  at  any  place  in 
England."  The  rich  and  splendid  gas  works, 
by  which  the  town  is  lighted  up  throughout  at 
night,  make  no  small  addition  to  its  beauty. 

During  my  stay  here,  I  was  indefatigable  in 
my  efforts  to  obtain  employment,  but  all  was  in 
vain.  I  was  sadly  situated  now,  as  winter  was 
approaching,  and  to  be  friendless  and  money- 
less di^ring  the  inclement  season  of  the  year, 
would  be  at  once  dangerous  and  painful.  To 
avoid  this,  I  visited  Wakefield  and  Barnsley, 
two  noted  towns,  but  with  no  better  success, 
except  that  I  made  out  to  obtain  a  few  days 
work.  Upon  this,  I  returned  to  Leeds,  as  the 
fair  was  about  to  commence,  hoping  to  gain 
some  small  employment  during  that  season  of 
noise  and  bustle.  After  having  spent  a  few 
days  in  a  fruitless  search  for  work,  during  which 
time  I  subsisted  on  charity,  and  seeing  hov 
small  a  prospect  existed  of  my  escaping  starva- 
tion, I  determined  once  more  to  try  my  fortune 
at  enlistment,  as  being  compelled  to  it  from  o6* 

solute  necessity*     I  accordingly  made  applica- 

• —  11^ 

♦Necessity  often  compels  us  to  do  things  that  are  repugnant 
to  our  feelin|s  and  int*  rest;  and  which  we  would  not  do,  were 
we  relieved  from  the  necessity  of  doing  it,  merely  for  the  preset* 
yation  of  life,  and  its  enjoyments.  Thus  it  was,  and  probably 
is  now  the  case  with  vast  numbers  of  the  honest  aud  industriout 
poor  of  Knglttnd,  who,  after  they  have  been  driven  to  deiUtu- 


n 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


49 


n  a  little 
one,  ten 
otli,  and 
d  with  a 
iiere  be- 
place  in 
3  works, 
ghout  at 
luty. 
gable  in 
11  was  in 
nter  was 

money- 
le  year, 
ful.  To 
{arnsley, 
success, 
few  days 
s,  as  the 

to  gain 
eason  of 
nt  a  few 
ig  which 

ng  hov 
starvt,- 

fortune 
from  ab» 

applica- 

repugnant 
ot  do,  were 

the  prcser* 
d  probably 

industrious 

to  deitittt* 


f^ 


tion  to  the  Sergeant  of  the  33d  Regiment,  who 
enlisted  me  for  the  6th  Regiment,  which  was 
then  lying  at  Leeds.  I  was  immediatly  march- 
ed before  the  Colonel,  and  officers  of  the  Regi- 
ment, and  passed  the  standard,  but  on  being 
more  circumspectly  examined,  I  was  pronoun- 
ced unfit  for  service,  being  half  an  inch  shorter 
than  the  height  required  by  law  for  soldiers  of 
that  Regiment.  The  Colonel  jocosely  answer- 
ed, on  my  rejection,  that  if  I  wished  to  be  a 
soldier,  I  must  "  go  home  and  grow  a  little 
more,  after  which,  he  should  have  no  objection 
against  taking  me." 

Disappointed,  I  r;tj.  t  went  to  York,  a  city 
noted  for  its  splendic  bsdral,  which  is  reck- 
oned the  most  elegant  ^**a  magnificent  Gothic 
structure  in  the  kingdom — that  in  Lincoln 
perhaps  excepted.  Passing  from  thence  to 
the  next  town  I  found  the  people  in  a  state  of 
tumult  and  disorder,  being  engaged  in  burning 
an  effigy  of  the  reigning  king,  (George  IV.) 
whose  cruelty  and  baseness  towards  his  wifa, 
(Caroline)  had  drawn  upon  him  the  odium  and 
contempt,  not  only  of  his  own  subjects,  but  of 
every  feeling  and  enlightened  man  in  the  world, 
who  had  become  fairly  acquainted  with  the 
subject.  Calling  at  a  tavern,  I  was  informed 
that  a  recruiting  Sergeant  w^as  stationed  there 
for  the  night ;  upon  which,  I  decided  to  try 
once  more  to  become  a  soldier,  for  I  was  now 

tion,  through  the  scarcity  of  labor  and  the   oppression  of  gov- 
ernment,  enlist  for  soldiers  as  an  anylum  to  ecreen  them  from 
their  impending  miseries. 
5* 


m^"j.i!£~ 


u!-JmMiWJfcB«uagt*« 


50 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


1:1: 


in  the  most  deplorable  situation,  being  entirely 
destitute  of  money,  or  friends,  I  retired  to 
bed  faint  and  weary,  not  having  had  much  to 
eat  during  the  day,  and  no  means  of  procuring 
a  supper  at  night.  When  morning  arrived,  I 
procured  a  large  quantity  of  paper,  and  cutting 
it  to  the  shape  and  size  of  my  feet,  for  I  ivas 
determined  not  to  be  too  short  this  time,  drew  on 
my  stockings,  and  thus  heis^htened,  went  again 
to  undergo  a  dread  ordeal.  Placing  myself 
beneath  the  standard,  I  seemed  tall  enough, and 
should  have  passed  had  it  not  been  for  the 
scrutiny  of  the  sergeant  :  Said  he,  "are  your 
stockings  thick  .^"  I  replied,  No  :  Upon  which 
he  went  to  examining  the  bottoms  of  my  feet^ 
with  ae  much  care  as  if  he  had  been  afraid  of 
taking  the  itch.  My  contrivance  was  of  course 
discovered,  and  I  was  dismissed  with  a  repri- 
mand so  severe,  that  it  taught  me  to  be  cautious 
how  I  used  paper  to  add  to  my  growth. 

Passing  from  thence,  on  my  way  to  the  next 
town,  I  entered  a  tavern,  in  hopes  to  obtain 
something  from  the  hand  of  charity.  I  had 
not  been  there  long  before  I  was  noticed  by  a 
gentleman,  who  perceiving  my  dejection,  took 
pity  on  me,  and  in  some  measure  relieved  my 
wants.  He  said  he  was  in  want  of  a  young 
man  to  enter  for  him  as  a  substitute  in  the  mili- 
tia, and  would  give  four  pounds  bounty  to  any 
one  who  would  engage.  On  enquiring  if  I 
was  willing  to  engage  for  him,  I  told  him  I  was, 
when  an  immediate  agreement  was  entered  in- 
tO;  and  I  returned   home   with  the  gentleman^ 


tirely 
)d  ta 
zh  to 
uring 
^ed,  I 
itting 
r  ivas 
sw  on 
again 
nyself 
;h,and 
)V  the 

your 
whicU 
Y  feet, 
aid  of 
bourse 

repri- 
utious 


to  any 

if  I 

was, 
led  in- 
$man, 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


51 


i       :^ 


who  hired  my  board  until  the  day  the  staff  offi- 
cers met  for  swearing  in  their  subjects,  which 
was  about  a  week.  The  day  arrived,  when, 
after  due  inspection,  I  was  sworn,  and  my 
name  enrolled  to  serve  five  years,  during  the 
war,  in  the  North  York  militia.  •After  every 
thing  had  been  completed  «s  respected  my  en- 
listment, a  very  unexpected  turn  took  place  in 
the  mind  of  my  substitutor,  who,  after  all  I 
could  say  or  do,  would  not  pay  me  but  two 
pounds — half  the  sum  agreed  upon,  but  said  he 
would  pay  the  other  half  when  the  regiment  as- 
sembled for  duty.*  Dissatisfied  and  somewhat 
vexed  withal,  I  promised  within  myself  I  would 
never  meet  to  do  duty  for  him,  but  would  go 
into  some  other  part  of  the  kingdom. 

Accordingly  the  next  morning  I  left  the  gen- 
tleman, militia  and  all  behind,  and  mounted  the 
stage,  in  order  to  go  to  London,  in  which  I 
was  soon  carried  to  Stamford,  and  from  thence 
i  proceeded  on  foot  to  Huntingdon,  where  fall- 
ing in  company  with  a  young  man,  who  had  re- 
cently visited  the  great  metropolis,  he  dissua- 
ded me  from  my  design  of  going  thither,  on 
the  ground  of  my  inexperience,  and  the  dan- 
ger to  which  I  should  consequently  be  exposed 
in  that  laboratory  of  vice  and  crime. 

»     ■■     —       ,-  ,       r 

*  The  method  pursued  in  England,  with  the  militia  corps,  is 
different  from  that  pursued  in  America.  There  they  only  draft 
8o  many  out  of  each  town,  which  is  but  few  in  number,  and 
each  Regiment  assembles  one  month  every  year  to  regular  duty. 
During  which  term  government  provides  them  with  a  suit  of 
regimental  uniform,  gun  and  equipments,  and  receives  the  same 
back  at  the  end  of  tlie  term  of  their  sen  ice. 


52 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


r,'i 


i   ! 


i    !l 


i 


!■  ! 


I   now  turned  my   vacillating   steps   towards 
Coventry,  when  I  again  began   to   experience 
much  evil  in  my  circumstances   and  while   m 
this    situation     almost    entirely     destitute,  far 
from  friends  and  in  the  midst  of  a  people  who 
would  take  but  little,if  any  pity  at  all  upon  me, 
I  submitted  myself  to  the  most  painful  train  of 
reflections.     Despair  was  depicted  in  my  feel- 
ings, while  melancholy  with  her  train  of  depres- 
sive  gloom,  became    my    abiding   companion. 
As  I  was  travelling  in  the  dusk  of  one  beautiful 
evening,  I  fell  in  company   with   a  young  man 
to   whom   I  related  my    sufferings.     He  (the 
young  mfin)  perceiving  my  trouble,  and  dejec- 
tion  of  mind,  spake   comforting,  and  gave  me 
good  counsel  that  had   some  happy  effect  upon 
my  feelings, which  will  induce  me  to  remember 
him,  and   the   interview,  with  pleasure.      Just 
after  we   had   parted,  a  post  chaise  passed  me 
going   in  the   direction   of  C,  when    without 
hesitation,    I  jumped  on,   unobserved  by  the 
coachman,  and  soon  arrived  at  the  place  of  my 
destination. 

The  same  evening  I  sought  to  obtain  relief, 
but  in  vain,  until  I  thought  I  must  starve  to 
death,as  I  had  not  a  penny  to  help  myself  with; 
and  after  forming  a  resolution  to  offer  myself 
for  the  army,  I  made  inquiries  of  a  man  if  there 
was  a  recruiting  party  in  the  place,he  informed 
me  there  was,  and  knowing  he  should  obtain  a 
small  sum  from  the  sergeant,  for  his  trouble  in 
case  I  enlisted,  went  immediately  with  me  to 
their  rendezvous  and  introduced  me  to  a  ser- 
geant of  the  staff  corps. 


^1 
(1 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


53 


ience 
lie  in 
e,  far 

who 
n  me, 
Eiin  of 
f  feel- 
epres- 
anion. 
autiful 
g  man 
e  (the 
dejec- 
ve  me 
it  upon 
ember 
Just 
ied  me 
irithout 
3y  the 

of  my 

relief, 
rve  to 
f  with; 
myself 
f  there 
formed 
btain  a 
uble  in 
me  to 
a  ser- 


m 


Afler  some  inquiry  into  my  circumstances, 
the  officer  gave  me  a  penny's  worth  of  bread, 
with  a  little  cheese  and  beer,  which  was  prin- 
cipally all  I  had  eaten  that  day,  and  travelled 
about  thirty  miles.  In  the  morning  the  sergeant 
before  he  had  enlisted  me,  took  me  to  the  stan- 
dard, but  found  I  was  half  an  inch  too  short  for 
any  regiment  in  the  service,  save  one,  which 
was  the  60th  Rifles.  He  said  he  would  enlist 
me  for  that  regiment,  as  I  should  not  be  able  to 
enter  in  any  other.  Afler  many  a  flaming 
description  of  the  pleasures  of  a  soldier's  life, 
and  telling  me  withal,  that  the  regiment  waa 
then  stationed  in  Americay  I  eagerly  seized  the 
opportunity  to  enlist  from  the  fond  anticipation 
that  I  should  see  a  country  so  famous,  and  to 
which  my  eager  disposition  craved  to  travel, 
as  the  reader  has  been  already  informed. 

-Being  pronounced  fit  for  service,  I  was  the 
next  day  taken  before  an  officer  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  oath,  or  what  is  generally  termed 
swearing  in.  The  gentleman  asked  me  how 
long  I  would  serve  ;  whether  for  a  limited  term, 
or  for  life  ;  to  which  I  deliberately  replied  / 
would  serve  during  life.^     The  oath  was  then 

—  -- -  ■■  —  —  -        ■  —    - ■ 

*  This  was  one  of  the  most  imprudent  steps  I  could  possibly 
have  taken,  to  inlist  for  life  :  as  it  involved  ine  into  a  perpe- 
tuity of  misery  and  suffering  all  my  days.  But  the  candid  read- 
er, after  considering  well  my  case,  will  not  remain  long  at  a 
loss  to  answer  every  inquiry  he  may  make  respecting  it.  The 
reason  why  I  did  so  is  too  plain  and  obvious.     I  was  in  the  firat 

Elace  an  inexperienced  boy.  In  the  second  placel  was  courted 
y  flatterers  who  might  be  said  to  seduce  me  by  their  bewitching 
descriptions  of  a  soldier's  life;  who  after  they  had  enlisted  ma 
(for  which  they  received  a  small  bounty  for  every  recruit)  cared 


■  I — Aw 


TT 


54 


LIFE    OP   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


aealedy  and  I  was  delivered  up  to  military  com- 
mand. Thus^  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  on  the  6th 
of  December,  1820,  I  became  a  soldier  in  His 
Britannic  Majesty's  60th  rifle  corps. 

notliing  more  about  me.     In  the  third  plctce,  and  most  impor- 
tant of  all,  I  had  occasioned  great  trouble  to  my  parents,  my 
father  especially,  through  my  disobedience.    Therefore,  to  have 
returned  home  would  have  incurred  a  heavier  censure ;  and  made 
him  more  angry,  and  my  life  more  miserable.     I  had  therefore 
resolved  never  more  to  return.     Added  to  this  the  misery  and 
entire  destitution  of  my  circumstances,  and  the  deep  trouble  of 
mind  of  which  I  was  then  the  unhappy  subject,  I  inconsiderate- 
ly without  any  regard  to  the  future  threw  myself  away,  and  to 
repeat  my  father's  words,  "/cared  not  what  became  ofm§.** 
How  rash,  and  how   imprudent  are  young  people!  and  yet  how 
merciful  is  God  to  bear  with  their  reoellion  !  Young  reader  be- 
ware !   ■  These  were  the  reasons  why  I  was  led  to  enlist  for 
life,  I  have  therefore  now  one  favor  to  ask  of  the  reader ,wheth« 
er  he  be  a  child  or  a  parent ;  that  before  he  casts  his  censure 
upon  me  for  my  imprudent  move,  he  will  stop,  and  rather  than 
inflict  it,he  will  cover  my  youthful  folly  with  a  mantle  of  mercy, 
as  he  may  have  children  whom  througn  the  passion  of  youth  and 
the  treachery  of  flatterers  may  be  led  to  a  similar  evil.     May 
God  grant  that  parents  may  never  know  the  sorrows  and  troub- 
les arising  from  disobedient  children  !    Hear  this  ye  parents, 
train  up  your  offspring  in  the  fear  of  God.     Begin   wiUi   them 
from  their  cradle,  and  impress  obedience  at  this  early  period 
of  their  existence.     Distill  the  holy  principles  of  the  Bible,  and 
of  the  glorious  religion  of  heaven,  when  the  mind  is  young 
and  tender ;  for  it  is  then  the  most  susceptible  of  receiving  that 
knowledge  and  wisdom  which  will  form  the  future  character  of 
the  man,  and  render  him  a  blessing  to  society  and  the   world. 
Let  this  important  duty  be  persevereingly  attended  to,  and  we 
shall  soon  see  tlmt  wretchedness  decreasing   in   the  world  of 
which  the  base  and  cruel  neglect  of  tliis  duty   is  its  legitimate 
cause. 

But  a  word  to  the  youth.  Young  reader,  you  see  what  evils 
follow  close  upon  the  heels  of  the  disobedient.  Areyou  of  that 
stamp  1  If  you  are,  take  timely  warning  from  my  example,  or 
you  will  ruin  both  your  soul  and  body  forever.  Do  you  ceaso 
to  regard  the  counsel  of  your  parents  1  If  you  do,  you  cease  to 


J  -yt 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


55 


r  com- 
he6th 
in  His 


3t  iinpor- 
rents,  my 
J,  to  have 
and  made 
therefore 
lisery  and 
;rouble  of 
nsiderate- 
ly,  and  to 
eofm:** 
d  yet  how 
reader  be- 
enlist  for 
der,wheth- 
lis  censure 
ather  tlian 
5  of  mercy, 
'  youth  and 
ivil.     May 
and  troul>> 
parents, 
wiUi   them 
rly  period 
Bible,  and 
is  young 
eiving  that 
laracter  of 
the  world. 
0,  and  we 
world  of 
legitimate 

what  evils 
^ou  of  that 
example,  or 

you  ceaso 
ou  cease  to 


The  reflection  has  probably  arisen  in  the 
breast  of  the  thoughtful  reader,  that  here  are 
many  adventures  recorded  for  so  young  a  man 
to  pass  through  or  experience.  This  I  ac- 
knowledge, but  simply  reply ,that  I  have  strictly 
adhered  to  truth,  in  the  whole  of  my  statements. 
At  the  close  of  this  chapter,  let  me  most  affec- 
tionately tell  the  discontented  youth  who  reads 
these  pages,  that  in  my  early,  and  subsequent 
trials,  he  may  see  the  evils  that  await  him  if  he 
allow  discontent  to  have  its  sway,  and  perhaps 
far  greater  ones  than  these  ;  for  if  the  author 
has  happily  escaped  from  iniquity  and  vice  to 
which  he  was  exposed  during  these  wander- 
ings, it  is  alone  through  the  grace  of  God  who 
has  preserved  him. 

CHAPTER  II. 

From  the  time  he  enlisted,  to  his  being  embodied  with  his  regi- 
ment in  Montreal,  Lower  Cannda. 

I  am  now  commencing  a  new  era  of  my  life, 
and  I  would  that  I  were  better  able  to  describe 
the  scenes  through  which  I  have  passed,  for 
even  now,  I  feel  my  spirit  rising  to  God  in  ad- 
oration and  thanksgiving  for  that  Providence 
which  has  watched  over  and  protected  me  in 

regard  the  counsel  of  God ;  and  miserable  indeed  is  thy  soul, 
if  while  thou  livest  tliou  art  not  governed  by  any  filial  regard 
to  either  !  Turn  then  to  the  path  of  obedience,  virtue,  and 
religion,  and  so  shalt  thou  secure  a  long,  happy,  and  blessed 
inheritance  ! 


tr-  -^'  ~. 


'     MW     'llll    I 

I  ' 


56 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITOX. 


. 


r 


:i    :' 


:  1 


\   S 
) 


ii 


all  my  troubles.  In  view  of  the  goodness  of 
God  to  me,  in  these  things,  1  am  constrained  to 
exclaim  with  David,  "  J3/es3  ihe  Lord,  O  my 
soul  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits. ^^ 

I  remained  in  Coventry  about  ten  days  wait- 
ing for  the  sergeant  to  complete  the  number 
of  recruits  he  was  commissioned  to  raise.  These 
days  I  spent  in  visiting  the  different  places  of 
recreation,  in  company  with  my  fellow  recruits. 
I  felt  also,  much  concerned  that  my  parents 
should  know  my  situation,  as  they  had  not 
heard  from  me  since  I  left  home.  But  fearing 
my  new  scene  of  lifb  would  induce  my  father  to 
visit  me,  procure  my  discharge,  and  take  mo 
home,  I  staggered  to  determine  what  to  do. 
But  after  a  few  serious  reflections  upon  this 
subject,  and  making  his  case  my  own,  I  wrote 
him  a  plain  account  of  all  that  I  had  done,  re- 
questing at  the  same  time  an  immediate  answer, 
but  receiving  orders  to  march  the  next  week,  I 
wrote  a  second  time  simply  stating  the  fact  of 
my  departure  and  the  place  of  my  destination. 

On  the  morning  of  our  departure,  we  were 
paraded  before  the  staff  officers,  by  whom  we 
were  asked  if  we  had  any  just  cause  of  com- 
plaint. We  answered  negatively.  Upon  which, 
one  of  the  officers  gave  us  a  few  words  of  ad* 
vice,  and  caution,  which  was  highly  necessary 
as  almost  every  man  exhibited  the  utmost  en- 
thusiasm and  glee.  Under  the  command  of  an 
experienced  officer  we  proceeded  on  our  march 
to  the  Isle  of  Wight.     Our  journey  was  easy, 

we  seldom  exceeded  sixteen  miles  per  day. 


^  i 


ess  of 

ned  to 

O  my 

s  wait- 
lumber 
These 
Lces  of 
jcruits. 
parents 
[•dd  not 
fearing 
ither  to 
ake  me 
:  to  do. 
on   this 
I  wrote 
)ne,  re- 
inswer, 
yeek,  I 
fact  of 
nation, 
were 
om  we 
f  com- 
which, 
of  ad- 
essary 
oSt  en- 
d  of  an 
march 
3  easy> 
er  day. 


LIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


57 


However,  on  our  way  we  met  with  serious  diffi- 
culties arising  from  the  incivility  of  those  land- 
lords upon  whom  we  were  billetted  during  our 
march.    To  them  the  sight  of  a  body  of  recruits 
was  always  disgusting,  which  disgust  led  them 
to  treat  these  men  in  the  most  shameful,  and 
sometimes  almost  brutal  manner.     Hence  we 
were  often  put  into  beds,  the  sight  of  which 
would  make  a  decent  man  shudder,  and  cause 
his  flesh  to  crawl.  Whenever  we  received  good 
usage  from  this  quarter,  we  failed  not  to  treat 
them  in  the  most  respectful  manner  in  return  ; 
but  on  receiving  contrary  treatment  we  annoy- 
ed them  by  hooting  all  night  like  a  party  of  owls 
and  careless  of  threats,  and  importunity,    we 
constantly  kept  our  ungracious  host  from  sleep 
until  the  dawn  of  day  bid  us  take  our  depar- 
ture.    At  one  place,  when  the    hour   arrived 
which  called  us  to  retire,   we  were  required  to 
follow  the  landlord,  a  command  we  cheerfully 
obeyed,   hoping  from  the  appearance  of  the 
place,  to  meet  with  comfortable  beds  and  bed- 
ding.    But  our  hopes  were  soon  blasted  from 
the  continued  progression  of  our  march,  for  he 
pursued  his  way  through  the  back  yard  towards 
the  stables.    Indeed  each  man  now  looked  sor- 
rowful, expecting  we  were  to  be  stabled,  like 
horses.     But  having  taken  us  through  various 
windings,  he  at  length  brought  us  to  an  upper 
loft,  connected  with  some  of  the  out  houses, 
when  he  left  us  with  the  following  compliment : 
"Gentlemen,    take  which  bed   you    please." 
Sorrowful  sight  !     To  be  sure  we  had  a  light, 
6 


58 


LIFE  OF  \V.  B.  LIGHTON. 


if 

[| 
! 


i   ! 


n 


II  iH    1 


but  our  light  served   but  to  make   known  the 
horrors  of  our  worse  than  J^Tewgate  cell.     Like 
the  moon  in  a  cloudy  night,  bursting  fitfully 
through  the  scowling  vapors,  she  serves  but  to 
give  the   benighted  traveller  a  glimpse  of  the 
craggy  rocks  and  tremendous  dangers  which 
surround  him,  but  afford  him  no  relief  from  his 
trouble.     So  with  our  light  ;   it  served  but  to 
increase  our  disgust,   and  to  make  known  the 
character  of  those  who  had  visited  the  disa- 
greeable spot  before  us.     The  room  was  large 
and  filthy,  containing  a  number  of  heaps,  from 
their  appearance  I  should  scarcely  call  them 
beds..    Beds  however  they  were,  composed  of 
the  coarsest  materials  and  any  thing  but  clean. 
The  walls  were  black  and  filthy  having  been 
smoked  with  the  flare  of  the  candle  and  portray- 
ed with  the  most  ghastly  images,  so  abhorrent 
that  they  reminded  me  of  the  chambers  of  hell. 
And  indeed  I  should  have  pronounced  the  place 
a  fitter  habitation  for  devils  than  for  rational 
men.     Had  I  been  alone,  I  should  have  been 
alarmed  ; — as  it  was,  I  felt  as  if  I  was  in  the 
den  of  some  wretched  miscreant.     Finding  there 
was  no  help  in  the  case,  from  constraint,  we 
submitted,  and  composed  ourselves  in  the  best 
way  we  could.     Upon  the  approach  of  morning 
we  took  and  heaped  bed  upon  bed  into  one  fil^ 
thy  pile,  and  then  prosecuted  our  march  to,  and 
through  the  city  of  Oxford,  so  famed  for  its  uni- 
versity ,and  also  as  being  the  place  where  many 
of  the  followers  of  Jesus  have,    amidst  flames 
of  fire,  "given  up  the  ghost."     At  an  early 


V  I 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


59 


wn  the 
Like 
fitfully 
but  to 
I  of  the 
which 
ifom  his 
i  but  to 
iwn  the 
,e  disa- 
as  largo 
)S,  from 
ill  them 
)osed  of 
it  clean. 
Qg  been 
portray- 
bhorrent 
of  hell, 
he  place 
rational 
,ve  been 
l3  in  the 
ng  there 
aint,  we 
the  best 
morning 
one  jil^ 
to,  and 
ir  its  uni- 
te many 
it  flames 
an  early 


I 


If 


hour  on  the  tenth  day  of  our  march,  we  arrived 
at  Southampton,  a  considerable  town  deriving 
its  importance  from  its  contiguity  to  the  sea. 
It  was  at  this  place  that  the  reproof  of  Canute 
to  his  flattering  courtiers,  so  often  mentioned  by 
writers,  is  said  to  have  occurred.  As  it  is  pos- 
sible all  my  young  readers  may  not  have  read 
it,  for  their  amusement  and  instruction  I  will 
here  relate  it. 

"As  Canute  the  Great,  King  of  England, 
was  walking  on  the  sea  shore  at  Southampton, 
accompanied  by  his  courtiers,  who  offered  him 
the  grossest  flattery,  comparing  him  to  th(« 
greatest  heroes  of  antiquity,  and  asserting  that 
his  power  was  more  than  human,  he  ordered  a 
chair  to  be  placed  on  the  beach,  while  the  tide 
was  coming  in.  Sitting  down  with  a  majestic 
air,  he  thus  addressed  himself  to  the  sea  : — 
"Thou  sea,  that  art  a  part  of  my  dominions,  and 
the  laud  whereon  I  sit,  is  mine  :  no  one  ever 
broke  my  commands  with  impunity.  I,  there- 
fore, charge  thee  to  come  no  farther  upon  my 
lands,  and  not  to  presume  to  wet  either  my  feet 
or  my  robe,  who  am  thy  Sovereign."  But  the 
sea,  rolling  on  as  before,  and  without  any  res- 
pect, not  only  wets  the  skirts  of  his  robe,  but 
likewise  splashed  his  thighs  ;  on  which  be  rem 
up  suddenly,  and  addressing  himself  to  his  at- 
tendants, upbraided  them  with  their  ridiculous 
flattery,  and  very  judiciously  expatiated  on  the 
narrow  and  limited  power  of  the  greatest  mon- 
arch on  earth.  "  Flatterers  who  praise  great 
men,  for  their  imaginary  merit,  lull  them  to 


60 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


I  if: 


'  ii 


sleep   to  their  real   miseries."     Then  reader 
beware  of  flattery :  of  which  the  poet  says, 

''Alas  !  thy  sweet  perfidious  voice,  betrays 
His  wanton  ears,  with  thy  Syrian  baits. 
Thou  wrapp'st  his  eyes,  in  mist,  then  boldly  lays. 
Thy  lethal  gins  their  crystal  gates. 
Thou  lock'et  every  sense,  with  thy  false  keys. 
All  willing  prisoners  to  thy  close  deceits. 
His  ear  most  nimble,  where  it  deaf  should  be. 
His  eye  most  blind,  where  most  it  ought  to  see. 
And  when  his  hearts  most  bound,  then  thinks  himself 
most  free." 

The  hour  of  our  embarkation  at  length  arriv- 
ed, and  after  a  few  hours  pleasant  sail  we  land- 
ed at  Cowes,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  proceed- 
ed on ;Our  march  to  the  garrison,  near  Newport, 
at  which  place  we  arrived  late  in  the  evening. 
On  the  day  following  we  were  inspected  by  the 
board  of  officers  for  that  purpose,  and  sent  to 
our  respective  detachments,  where  we  immedi- 
ately commenced  our  new  profession.  And 
soon  I  found  my  painful  experience,  that  a  sol- 
dier^s  life  was  far  from  being  so  easy  and  pleas- 
ing as  I  had  been  taught  to  believe.  I  soon 
found  that  toil  and  fatigue  were  incident  to  his 
life  ;  and  that  the  plea  of  youth,  and  inexperi- 
ence could  not  be  admitted,  nor  urged  as  a 
ground  for  exemption  from  duties  which  my 
strength  was  scarcely  sufficient  to  perform.  1 
shall  here  enter  into  a  few  particulars  of  my 
experience,that  my  readers  may  form  some  idea 
of  a  British  soldier's  life. 

Having  fully  entered  upon  this  career,  I  was 
sent  to  the  field  to  become  minutely  acquainted 
with  the  duties  of  my  station  :    and  notwith- 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


61 


^    ■ 


I  reader 

lys, 

lays. 


B. 

ks  himself 

th  arriv- 

ve  land- 

jroceed- 

rewport, 

jvening. 

d  by  the 

sent  to 

immedi- 

I.     And 

at  a  sol- 

d  pleas- 

I  soon 

it  to  his 

aexperi- 

^ed  as  a 

hich  my 

brm.     1 

•s  of  my 

me  idea 

r,  I  was 
|uainted 
lot  with- 


standing my  ungracefulness  at  first,  I  was  soon 
pronounced  ^^fit  for  duty.^^    In  these  schools  for 
military  instruction,  were  employed  men  of  the 
most  tyrannical  dispositions,  whose  unmerciful 
proceedings,  begat  in  their  scholars,  feelings  of 
decided  antipathy.     Whereas,  had  they  pursu- 
ed a  milder  course,  they  might  have  secured 
the  good  will  of  all  who  were   placed  beneath 
them.     But  instead  of  this,   the  least  offence 
offered  to  these  myrmidons,  was  resented  with 
the  most  brutal  ferocity,  and  often  in  a  manner 
totally  repugnant  to  the  discipline  of  the  Army; 
which,  though  severe  in  itself,  does  not  counte- 
nance acts  of  tyranny  on  the  part  of  subalterns. 
Their  conduct  towards  us,  had  it  been  known, 
would  have  produced  an  expulsion.     But  fear 
bound  our  lips,  and  we  submitted  ourselves  to 
these  tyrannical  monsters. 

But  our  trouble  did  not  end  here.  Would 
that  it  had,  we  should  not  have  had  so  much 
^ause  to  repine,  and  mourn.  We  were  abso- 
lutely deprived  of  many  of  the  necessaries  of 
life.  Our  daily  allowance  was  but  one  pound 
of  bread  ;  one  pound  of  meat  ;  a  pint  of  soup; 
and  a  pint  of  tea,  with  three  or  four  potatoes, 
per  man  ;  which  in  itself  was  scarcely  suffi- 
cient had  it  been  of  good  quality  and  measure. 
But  they  dealt  out  the  miserable  stuff  as  choice 
as  if  it  had  been  gold.  Our  bread  was  compo- 
sed of  the  coarsest  materials,  and  such  was  its 
adhesive  qualities,  that  if  a  piece  was  thrown 
against  the  wall,  there  it  would  remain. 

In  consequence  of  this  scanty  allowance  the 
6* 


62 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  UGHTON. 


ft  ! 


s.  ■ 


i! 

1 


I; 

f 

ill 


I!  ! 


young  troops  became  strongly  addicted  to  pil- 
[ering,  while  many,  from  a  principle  of  honesty, 
actually  endured  the  pangs  of  hunger.  So  great 
was  the  distress,  that  every  article  of  clothing, 
that  could  possibly  be  spared,  was  disposed  of 
to  procure  the  necessaries  of  life.  Many  of 
my  companions  in  military  adventure,  now  be- 
came anxiously  concerned  about  the  future. 
Some  applied  to  their  parents  for  money  to 
procure  their  discharge,  which  many  of  them 
obtained. 

A  very  painful  circumstance  occurred  during 
our  stay  in  this  place  which  made  every  young 
soldier  lament  the  sad  step  he  had  taken,  and 
almost  to  wish  he   had   never  been  born.     A 
very  tespectable  young  man,  apparently  of  so- 
ber habits,   (he  was  married)  was  so  affected 
with  a  sense  of  the  wretchedness  into  which  he 
had  thrown   himself,  that  he  v/rote  to  his  pa- 
rents for  money  to  procure  his  discharge.     But 
unable  to  procure  the  'necessary  means  from 
thenif  he  adopted  a  measure,  which   not   even 
his  pungent  distress,  and  pressing  want  could 
possibly  justify.     He  was  roomed  with  the  pay- 
master sergeant  of  the  regiment,  and  from  him 
he  secretly  purloined  tu^enty  pounds;  a  sum  suf- 
ficient to  effect    the   desired   object,   which  he 
enclosed  in  a  letter,  directed  to  his  father.  The 
loss,  however,   was  soon  disco ,  ered.     For  m 
lodging  it  in  the  post  office,   the   post  master 
having  fears  respecting  it,  made  inquiry  at  the 
source  from  whence  it  was  missing,  and  he  was 
according  imprisoned,  tried  by  a  court  martial; 


ft 


II    ,>»> 


LIFE  OF  W.  B*  LIGHTON. 


63 


I  to  pil- 
onesty, 
)0  great 
iothing, 
osed  of 
[any  of 
low  be- 
future. 
loney  to 
)f  them 

d  during 
y  young 
ten,  and 
orn.     A 
ly  of  so- 
afFectcd 
^hich  he 
his  pa- 
^e.     But 
ans  from 
lot   even 
nt  could 
the  pay- 
rom  him 
sum  suf- 
hich  he 
er.  The 
For  in 
t  master 
y  at  the 
4  he  was 
martial, 


11 


convicted,  and  sentenced  to  thd  cruel  and  igno- 
minious punishment  of  three  hundred  lashes. 

During  his  confinement,  driven  almost  to  des- 
peration by  his  situation,  and  doubtless  while 
deprived   of  the   right   use   of  his  reason,  he 
wrote  an   instrument  with  his   own  blood,  in 
which  he  swore  unhallowed  allegiance  to  the 
Devil,  and  expressed  his  intention   of  joining 
confederacy  with  the  prince  of  darkness,  there- 
bv  to  evade  the  force   of  his  cruel   sentence. 
"This  instrument  was  discovered,  and  presented 
to  the  Adjutant,  who  after  pondering  a  moment 
over  its  mysterious  contents,  laconically  obser- 
ved, "  If  the  Devil  is  in  him  we  will  whip  him 
out."     The  morning  arrived  for  the  execution 
of  the  sentence,  and  preparations  were   made 
for  its   accomplishment      About  two  thousand 
troops  were  marched  to  the  8pot,where  a  square 
of  four  men  in  depth  was  soon  formed.     Pfext 
arrived  the  trembling  culprit,  who  was  stripped , 
and  tied  to  a  triangle,  prepared  for  the  purpose. 
When  the  order  for   commanding  punishment 
was  given,  the  general  sympathy  of  the  troops 
was  expressed  by  a  universal  groan.     Every 
blow  which  was  inflicted,  while  it  lacerated  the 
back  of  the  culprit,  pained  the  heart  of  every 
soldier,  and  many  turned  aside  from  beholding 
the  horrid  scene.     The  bleeding  criminal,cried 
in  loud,  and  piercing   accents  for  pardon,  until 
the  oft  repeated  blows  created  a  deathish  numb- 
ness upon  the  flesh  and  he  became  insensible  to 
pain.     At  length,  from  the  loss  of  blood,  which 
flowed  freely  from   his  wound,  he  fainted,  and 


§ 


trr- 


64 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


I  I        ,!': 


was  conveyed  from  the  brutal  scene  to  the  ho8« 
pital. 

This  painful  circumstance  produced  iii  my 
mind  many  a  cutting  reflection,  and  gave  birth 
to  a  fear,  that  by  some  unfortunate  act,  I  should 
bring  upon  myself  a  similar  punishment.  Fain 
would  I  have  petitioned  my  father  to  procure 
my  discharge  ;  but  the  remembrance  of  my  un- 
grateful act  towards  him,  prevented  me  ;  and  1 
concluded  I  would  bear  my  ills  in  silence  ; 
consolling  myself  with  the  hope  of  better  days 
when  joined  to  my  regiment  in  Canada. 

Another  circumstance  tended  much  to  mili- 
tate against  our  peace.  We  were  not  permit- 
ted to  ^o,  on  any  account  whatever,  beyond  the 
sound  of  the  drum.  One  mile  only  in  circum- 
ference, was  the  extent  oi  territory  we  were 
allowed  ;  nor  could  we  travel  beyond  this  limit, 
without  exposing  ourselves  to  the  treatment  of 
deserters,  which  punishment  would  have  been 
the  infliction  of  seven  hundred  lashes,  or  im- 
prisonment, with  transportation  for  life.  We 
had  had  one  specimen  of  this  species  of  pun- 
ishment and  numbers  were  then  in  close  con- 
finement, awaiting  their  fate,  with  an  anxiety 
almost  as  painful  as  the  punishment.  But  not- 
withstanding these  coffent  warnings,  I  was  once 
nearly  involved  in  a  like  disaster. 

One  beautiful  aflernoon,  as  we  were  taking  a 
walk  through  the  streets  of  Newport,  near 
which  place  we  were  stationed,  the  sight  of  an 
ancient  castle  enkindled  within  us  a  desire  to 
visit  its  antiquated  walls  ;  which,  from  report, 


ii 


LIFE   OP  W.  D.  LIGHTON. 


65 


3  h08- 

ih  my 
3  birth 
should 

Fain 
rocure 
my  un- 

and  I 
lence  ; 
3r  days 

o  mili- 
permit- 
ond  the 
circum- 
e   were 
is  limit, 
nent  of 
e  been 
or   im- 
We 
of  pun- 
je   con- 
anxiety 
3ut  not- 
as  once 


•t 


aking  a 
near 
it  of  an 
esire  to 
report, 


we  learned  had  been  the  place  of  the  oonfine- 
tocnt  of  the  French  prisoners  during  the  war. 
So  solicitous  were  we  to  visit  this  place,  that 
without  respect  to  our  restricted  limits,  we  pur- 
sued our  way  towards  it,   and  arrived  without 
interruption  at  the  spot  ;  being  then   about  four 
miles  from  the  garrison,  and  three  miles  beyond 
the  line  of  our  bounds.     We  were  highly  grat- 
ified with  the  scenery  around  the  castle — it  was 
strikingly  beautiful.     But  our  pleasures   were 
soon  intererrupted  by  a  remembrance  of  the 
danger  to  which  we  were   exposing  ourselves, 
and  the  rapid  approach  of  the  hour  appointed 
for  our  return  to  duty.     But  not  contented  with 
what  we  had  seen  of  the  exterior,  as  we  walked 
around  it,  we  resolved  if  possible,  to  gain  ad- 
mittance to  the  interior,  as  it  was  famed  for  the 
magnificence  of  its  architecture.     We   accor- 
dingly pursued  our  way  through  a  narrow  pas- 
sage to  the  first  door,  which   being   open,  wo 
entered  witliout  ceremony,  and  advanced  to  a 
stupendous  arch, where  was  a  door  of  no  ordinary 
size  and  workmanship,  which  repelled  our  uni- 
ted, and  most   powerful  efforts  to    open.     We 
looked  through   some   crevices,   made  by   the 
mutilating  finger  of  time,  to  discover,  if  possi- 
ble, what  objects  were    within  ;  but   could  dis- 
cover naught,  save  what  appeared  to  be  other 
doors,  equally  ponderous  as  the  one  which  im- 
peded our  progress.     We  next  tried  to  arouse 
the  attention  of  the  inmates,by  gently  knocking; 
but  receiving  no  answer,  we  became  more  loud 
in  our  demands,  and   pulled  lustily  upon  a  rope 


66 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


M 


I   I  'l 


Mf 


to  which  a  bell  was  attached.  But  no  answer 
We  now  grew  impatient,  especially  as  our  time 
was  growing  short,  and  we  at  length  joined  to 
give  one  unanimous  call  for  admission  ;  each 
soldier  taking  a  stone,  and  pounding  with  all  his 
might  against  the  massive  doors,  which,  togeth- 
er with  the  continued  ringing  of  the  bell,  rev- 
erbrated  with  a  most  astounding  noise  along 
the  vaulted  roofs  of  the  building,  until  its  echo 
became  deafening  and  terriffic,  Fearing  that 
the  inmates  might  become  touched  with  resent- 
ment at  our  unseemly  behavior,  we  hastily  re- 
tired, and  just  as  we  passed  the  outer  door,  we 
met  ^n  elderly  gentleman,  who  reprimanded  us 
severely  for  our  misconduct  and  threatened,  at 
the  same  time,  to  send  for  a  piquet  guard.  It 
was  fortunate  for  us  that  we  had  arrived  beyond 
the  outer  door,  else  it  would  have  been  easy  for 
him  to  have  made  us  his  prisoners,  and  we  had 
then  paid  dearly  for  our  adventure .  Fearing 
that  he  had  already  sent  for  a  guard  of  soldiers, 
for  our  apprehension,  we  quickened  our  pace, 
and  arrived  safely  within  the  precints  allowed 
us. 

Shortly  after,  we  were  again  paraded  to  wit- 
ness another  species  of  military  punishment, 
which  though  of  a  mortifying  character,  was 
less  tinged  with  barbarity.  It  is  sometimes  cal- 
led **  a  drumming  out."  The  individual  in 
question  was  placed  between  the  ranks  of  in- 
fantry, followed  by  the  musicians,  playing  the 
"  rogues  march."  He  was  thus  conducted  to 
the  confines  of  the  garrison,  where  he  was  left 


answer 
our  time 
joined  to 
n  ;   each 
ith  all  his 
I,  togeth- 
bell,  rev- 
se   along 
I  its  echo 
ring  that 
;h  resent- 
istily  re- 
door,  we 
landed  us 
a.tened,  at 
uard.     It 
pd  beyond 
1  easy  for 
d  we  had 
Fearing 
soldiers, 
ur  pace, 
Is  allowed 

Id  to  wit- 
lishment, 
[cter,  was 
limes  cal- 
ddual  ia 
Iks  of  in- 
lying the 
Iducted  to 
was  left 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


67 


to  pursue  his  own  course,  being  now  disbanded, 
or  freed  from  the  obligations  of  his  oath,  and 
no  longer  a  military  subject.  This  punishment 
is  sometimes  inflicted  for  petty  thefts,  and  in- 
corrigible profligacy.  Many  of  our  number 
would  gladly  have  exchanged  situations  with 
him  ;  seeing  it  delivered  him  from  all  the  tyr- 
anny and  suffering,  to  which  he,  iii  comnion 
with  us,  had  been  exposed.  O,  how  would  I 
have  greeted  such  a  punishment.  To  me  it 
would  have  been  the  highest  favor  they  could 
have  conferred  upon  me  !  But  alas  !  I  could 
only  in  imagination  trace  the  road  which  led  to 
home  and  all  its  lost  delights  ;  while  the  reality 
of  my  case  was  like  a  dagger  in  my  heart.  O, 
miserable  prospect  !  A  perpituity  of  bondage, 
to  cease  only  with  life  !  An  insurmountable 
barrier  placed  between  me  and  the  enjoyments 
of  social  life  ! 

I  had  not  neglected  to  send  my  parents  an 
account  of  the  events  of  my  life,  withholding 
only  the  most  painful  parts  of  my  experience, 
lest  they  should  grieve  immoderately  for  their 
lost  son.  In  answer  to  my  first  and  second  let- 
ters, I   received  the   following  from  my  father. 

Frampton  Jan,  1st  1821. 

Dear  Son — I  have  just  received,  by  one 
post,  both  your  letters^  sent  from  Coventry  ; 
and  while  I  approve  of  your  conduct  in  writing 
me  concerning  your  situation,  I  can  but  lament 
your  folly  in  leaving  your  place,  of  which  I 
knew  nothing  until  I  received  your  letter,  and 


6d 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


Hi 
i  iff 


your  extreme  rashness  in  entering  upon  a  ca- 
reer so  humiliating  as  a  soldier's  life  ;  a  life  at- 
tended with  intolerable  hardships,  and  what  is 
worse,  with  every  species  of  profanity,  lewd- 
ness^ and  wickedness.  I  hope  you  will  remem- 
ber to  keep  yourself  clear  of  these  pernicous 
practices.  You  know  by  this  time  they  are  a 
swearing  set  ;  be  sure  you  never  join  them  in 
this  respect.  ^' Sivear  7iot  at  ally  You  are 
now  beyond  the  reach  of  parental  instruction, 
or  at  least  protection,and  your  situation,togeth- 
er  with  the  distance  which  does,  and  will  sep- 
arate us  ;  will,  undoubtedly,  create  in  future 
very;  serious  anxiety  for  your  welfare  ;  and  I 
hope  your  duty  as  a  child  on  this  point,  will  bo 
respectfully  regarded.  I  would  sincerely  ad- 
vise you  to  he  good  and  dutiful  to  your  superiors; 
submissive  to  all  your  officers,  and  respectful 
in  your  deportment,  so  that  I  may  hear  from, 
and  see  you  again  in  peace. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

WILLIAM   LIGHTON. 

This  letter  from  my  father,  paved  the  way 
for  a  regular  correspondence,  while  it  removed 
many  fears  from  my  mind,  and  gave  me  hopes 
of  better  days. 

Towards  the  spring  of  the  year  I  suffered  a 
little  from  sickness,  which  originated  in  a  cold, 
taken  one  wet  night  while  upon  duty,  and,  al- 
though its  symptons  were  not  very  alarming,  I 
was  conducted  to  the  Hospital,  where  I  was 
examined,  and  retained  to  undergo  a  course  of 


\j 


LIFE   OP   \Y.  IS,  LIGHTON. 


69 


►on  a  ca- 
a  life  at- 
d  what  is 
ity,  lewd- 
11  remem- 
pernicous 
ey  are  a 
n  them  in 
You  are 
struction, 
)n,togeth- 
l  will  sep- 
in   future 
re  ;  and  I 
nt,  will  bo 
merely  ad- 
supcriors; 
respectful 
ear  from, 


TON. 

the  way 

removed 

|me  hopes 

suffered  a 
in  a  cold, 
L  and,  al- 
arming, I 
Ire  I  was 
;ourse  of 


I 


medicine.  While  I  remained  under  medical 
care,  which  was  about  twenty-one  days,  I  un- 
derwent more  pain  and  suffering  than  I  had 
heretofore  experienced.  I  was  deprived  of  my 
usual  provisions,  and  received  as  a  substitute, 
a  pint  of  gruel,  or  rice,  with  but  very  little  of 
any  other  article  of  consumption.  Towards 
the  close  of  my  sickness,  I  was  supplied  with 
articles  of  food  somewhat  more  substantial, 
though  in  too  small  a  quantity,  properly  to  sup- 
ply the  wants  of  nature.  While  in  this  situa- 
tion, I  was  visited  by  my  comrade,  who  after  a 
few  words  of  enquiry  concerning  my  health, 
presented  me  with  a  letter,  which  proved  on 
being  opened,  to  be  from  my  father,  and  con- 
tained a  small  sum  of  money,  a  most  accepta- 
ble present  in  my  situation,  as  it  served  to  pro- 
cure the  means  of  alleviating  my  distress. 

My  health  having  recovered,  I  was  permitted 
to  return  to  my  duties  in  the  garrison,  which 
was  but  of  short  continuance,  as  the  time  had 
nearly  arrived  when  we  expected  to  sail  for 
head  quarters  in  America.  Already  had  or- 
ders arrived  for  a  detachment  to  be  sent  to  the 
second  battalion  of  the  corps,  stationed  at  Hal- 
ifax, N.  S.  Previous  to  the  arrival  of  this  or- 
der we  were  called  to  witness  scenes  the  most 
heart-breaking  and  distressing.  Many  of  the, 
new  recruits  were  married  men,  whose  youth- 
ful companions  had  voluntarily  followed  them,* 

_j-  II ^ 

*  It  will  be  observed,  that  the  prime  cause  which  led  theM 
unfortunate  individtiaU  to  enlist  into  the  Army^  was  the  ^n- 
ttral  distress  then  prf'vnient  amon.^  t))9  lal)nriiig  class.     Such« 
7 


70 


LIFK  OK  W.   B.  LIGHTON. 


i 


I! 


: 


I 

14 


n  ;  ' 


!      1 


".I  I       i 
I'.'l  .'    : 


,^!'! 


1"!  i 


i;!! 


)  ;i! 


iin 


^  r 


choosing  rather  to  endure  with  their  beloved 
husbands,  the  rigors  of  a  miHtary  life  than  to 
suffer  a  painful  separation,  when  the  command- 
ing officers  interfered,  and  ordered  that  all  the 
women  above  a  specified  number  should  be 
forthwith  returned  to  their  native  homes. 

The  day  arrived    when  this  order  was  rigor- 
ously executed  ;   when  the  young  and  innocent 
wife  was  torn  from  the  beloved  euibrace  of  her 
youthful  husband,  amid  sobs  and  tears  the  most 
touching.      Even    now,    methinks   I   hear  the 
shrill  scream  of  the  women,  as  with  the  deepest 
agony  of  soul,  they  took  the  long,  last,  affecting 
farewell.     How  wild  the  look  of  the  parent  as 
with  a  countenance   almost  like  distraction  he 
gazed  upon    his  bloominj]^  oflspring,    which  he 
loved  as  his  own  soul.     He    must   now    leave 
them,   not  to  be  well  provided   for,  and  taken 
care  of,  that  would  be  some  alleviation,  but  the 
soldier  can  have  no  such  hope,  bis  wife  is  poor, 
her  family  poor,  he  leaves  them  then  to  extrfune 
poverty  and  destitution.     And  the  poor  broken- 
hearted mother,  her  case  is  worse,    far  worse  ! 
She  leaves  her  husband  and  in  leaving  him  she 
leaves  her   all   on  earth,  her  only  stay  in  life. 
And  is  she  at  ease  ?    Ah  no  !     The  thought  of 
joys,  forever   gone,  destroys    her   peace.     She 
retains    a   faint    emblem  of  the    father   in  her 
child,  which  only  serves  to  tell  he  is  gone  for- 

indeed  was  the  Hoantiness  of  labor,  and  the  low  wages,  and  the 
Bufferings  it  occasioned  that  very  many  of  the  most  respectable 
of  the  poor,  were  from  Imperious  necespiiy  driven  to  the  army, 
AS  an  assylnin  to  fi(;reen  and  save  th(«n  from  threatened  $tar- 
vation. 


<'-| 


ir 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


71 


•  beloved 
3  than  to 
ommand- 
at  all  tho 
hould  be 

ras  rigor- 
innocent 
ce  of  her 
;  the  most 
hear  the 
e  deepest 
affecting 
parent  as 
•action  he 
which  he 
ow    leave 
nd  taken 
n,  but  the 
fe  is  poor, 
\o  cxtr^aiie 
r  brokeu- 
[tr  worse  ! 
g  him  she 
ay  in  life. 
Ihought  of 
ice.     She 
ler  in  her 
gone  for- 

Jrages,and  the 
1st  respectable 
\  to  the  army, 
\aiened  atar- 


ever,  or  at  least  separated  from  her  ;  this  is  a 
sorrow  which  serves  to  increase  her  woeSj 

• find  enila 

In  hiunun  misery  profound. 

At  last  she  hears  that  her   protector  has  gone 
the  way  of  all  the  earth,  and  has  left  her  child 
destitute  of  every  means  of  support,  of  every 
thing  calculated  to  sweeten  the  bitter  cup  of 
life.     Without  friends  or  home  these  children 
grow  up,  left  to  the  tender  mercies  of  a  wicked 
world  ;  they  become  common  beggars,  doomed 
to  suffer  the  miseries  of  an  ignorant  and  wretch- 
ed life  ;   and  too  often  to  end  that  life  upon  tho 
gallows.      With   a  faint   description  of  these 
evils  before  us,  may  we   not   pity  that  power 
which  has  so  far  departed  from  its  original  ex- 
cellence, as  to  be  the  cause  of  these  glaring 
evils.     So  void  of  benignity  are   its  supporters 
that  they  trample  licentiously  upon  that  class 
of  subjects,  (the  poor)  from  whom  they  derive 
their   principal  support.     Thus   are  merciless 
tyrants  usurping  what  never  belonged  to  them; 
and  they  are  evidently  determined  to  stifle  eve- 
ry sentiment  of  respect  to  a  proper  administra- 
tion of  the   affairs  of  a   suffering    nation.     O 
England  !    the  clouds  are  gathering  blackness 
around  thee  !     Thy  once  exuberant  brightness 
is  now  tarnished,   and    methinks  thy  fate  will 
end   in   scenes   worse   than  thy  martyrdoms  ! 
But   may   the    Lo  *d   prevent   this   calamitous 
event,  and  defend  thy  palaces  with  princes,  and 
thy  courts  with  noblemen  whose  characters  shall 
be  unblemished!    Hoping  the  reader  will  pardon 


^, 


••" 


72 


LIFK  OF  W.  B.  I.IGIITON. 


i 


i::i 


•  ! 


I'  I 
1^1 .1 


this  digression  I  proceed  to  offer  a  few  more 
remarks  upon  the  circumstances  I  have  but 
faintly  depicted. 

The  reader  may  have  asked  the  question  to 
himself,  was  there  no  prospect  that  these  horror 
stricken  husbands  and  wives  being  again  uni- 
ted ?  To  this  it  may  be  repUed  not  unless  they 
obtained  their  discharge,  and  that  required  a 
sum  they  never  would  be  able  to  pay,  on  ac- 
count of  their  poverty.  The  attachment  of 
these  men  appeared  to  be  of  the  strongest  kind, 
for  some  of  them  willfully  maimed  themselves 
that  they  might  be  considered  inifit  for  service. 
An  instance  of  this  kind  I  will  mention.  A 
young  man  as  he  was  accompanying  his  wife 
to  Cowes  to  take  his  final  leave  of  her,  and  ap- 
parently under  deep  concern,  requested  leave 
to  step  aside  for  a  moment,  which  was  granted, 
when  secreting  himself  beneath  a  stone  bridge, 
he  resolutely  cut  his  thumb  from  his  hand  with 
a  razor  which  he  had  prepared  for  the  purpose, 
and  then  throwing  both  into  an  adjoining  field, 
he  joined  the  rest  of  his  company.  His  situa- 
tion being  observed  by  the  officer,  he  was  im- 
mediately arrested,  and  soon  ader  tried  by  a 
court  martial,  and  sentenced  to  be  a  pioneer  in 
the  garrison  for  life.  Thus  were  this  unfortu- 
nate couple,  with  many  others,  bereft  of  their 
early  enjoyments,  and  disappointed  in  their 
fondest  expectations,  torn  from  each  other  by 
ruthless  tyrants,  whose  lender  mercies  were 
cruelty.  What  must  have  been  the  feelings  of 
that  young  woman  when  she  saw  her  husband 


1 1 


\i 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


73 


Dw  more 
lave  but 

estion  to 

le  horror 

;ain  uni- 

less  they 

quired  a 

on  ac- 

meni  of 

est  kind, 

jmselves 

service. 

tion.     A 

his  wife 

and  ap- 

;d  leave 

granted, 

5  bridge, 

and  with 

purpose, 

ng  field, 

is  situa- 

was  im- 

ed  by  a 

loneer  in 

unfortu- 

of  their 

in   their 

)ther  by 

?s   were 

lings  of 

lusband 


thus  ^^xpose  his  life  to  gain  his  liberty  and  to  bo 
her  friend,  and  then  to  hear  of  his  consignment 
to  a  painful  and  wearisome  life.  O,  wretched 
life,  thought  I,  'tis  better  to  be  dead  than  to 
live  !  And  what  may  not  such  cruel,  hard 
hearted  monsters  expect  from  the  hand  of  that 
God  who  hath  said  in  his  holy  word,  "  Whaty 
therefore,  God  hath  joined  together y  let  not  man 
put  asunder.^^     Matt.  xix.  6. 

Having   now   no   alleviation   from    duty,  I 

reality  a  slave  ;  and  the 
for  life,  was  almost  more 
The  day  at  length  arrived 


thought  myself  in 
thought  that  it  was 
than  I  could  bear. 


m 


for  our  embarkation  ;  it  was  hailed  with  de- 
light by  many  of  us,  as  we  imagined  that  our 
trials  would  now  be  lessened,  and  that  better 
times  would  smile  upon  us.  We  were  all 
equipped  with  suitable  apparel  for  the  climate, 
and  by  this  means  deeply  involved  in  debt. 
Early  in  the  morning  of  our  departure  we  took 
an  affectionate  farewell  of  the  associates  we 
were  about  to  leave  ;  every  soul  exhibited  emo- 
tions of  concern,  and  good  feeling  accompanied 
with  expressions  intimating  their  wishes  for  our 
future  prosperity,  while  inhabitants  of  distant 
climes.  For  my  own  part  my  thoughts  revert- 
ed to  the  scenes  of  home,  its  pleasures  and  as- 
sociations, which  made  it  an  interestingly  pain- 
ful occasion.  The  hour  arrived,  and  the  beat- 
ing of  drums  summoned  us  to  order,  when  each 
man  securing  his  knapsack,  hastened  to  the 
parade  ground,  and  after  inspection  we  procee- 
ded on  our  march  to  Cowes,  accompanied  part 


(i 


,1,  1 


i 


S  " 


.1! 


..-Hi 

!  *1 


i  'i 


! 


|,:;i. 


74 


MFi:  or  \v.  n.  lk^iiton. 


of  tho  wav  l>v  a  hand  of  musio,  to  cheer  with 
its  eiiHvoiiiiiix  itinueaee  our  droDpiii*;  spirits. 
It  was  now  that  \ny  nireclions  vv(;ro  severely 
tried.  Home  liad.  a  <.'i)arin  too  stroni;  to  he 
dispelled  hy  th(^  roUin<;  ol"  drums  ;  I  was  now 
about  to  leave  it  forever,  every  spot  we  passed 
seemed  like  somk?  sj)ot  di'ar  to  memory,  and 
spoke  with  a  voi'.^e  ol'  I'irillint;  inlerest  to  my 
soul. 

While  waitiUjC!!;  on  iin'  shor*^  for  ht)ats  to  eon- 
vey  us  to  the  s!  ip,  I  emphiycd  my  time  in 
briniriuix  to  view  ihe  diversilied  scenes  through 
which  I  had  passed  ;  the  lr«Mii)les  1  had  endur- 
ed, and  t!ie  home  I  had  left.  Such  were  my 
emotions  that  1  wouhi  i'ain  have  kisstd  the  soil 
on  whlcl>  1  stood,  and  wIumi  (he  boat  arrived,  I 
ftjlt  reluctant  to  leave  Mie  never  Ibri^otten  shores 
of  Albion,  and  as  I  stepped  hejivily  into  tho 
boat,  I  oll'ered  a  silent  prayer  for  the  blessing 
of  heaven  upon  my  friends  and  myself. 

O  !  iimst  I  a  poor  «'\ilo  ever  iiioiini  ; 
Nor  i\i\vx  li!it;tli  ol'  rolliiuj  y«;:ir.s  n'tiuil  1 
Aii»  I  r.oinpollt'il  (o  I  uvr  my  fri('iul«  and  lioino  ; 
To  live  no  nion   'ncalli  ttu^  anrcMtral  doino  1 
May  Kind  Iioav'n  he  our  «;ni(lo — our  »<tt'ps  dt'fend, 
And  may  Thy  l)!»*ssin«j;  crowi)  ns  to  tho  imhI. 
.\t  fifteen  yetirs  I  h'avo  hoih  home  and  land 
An  iiii'ant  Holdirr  to  obey  *onunand. 

Immediately  after  arrivin<i  on  board  we  wero 
all  sent  below  and  hatt!h(Hl  down,  to  prevent 
disorder,  or  escape,  and  the  next  day,  having  a 
fair  wind,  wo  weighed  anchor  and  set  sail,  May 
22nd,  \iV2\j  and  soon  Ictl  far  behind  us  the 
beautcou.^    and    lovely    scenes    which    every 


r  with 
ipirits. 
vcroly 
r  to  be 

IS  HOW 

pussed 

Y,  and 

to  my 

:o  cou- 
iiuc  ill 
hrouj^h 
LMidur- 
crc  my 
ho  soil 
rived,  I 
I  shores 
nto  tho 
casing 


lul, 


Kit 


It 
'I 


::i 


i;n 


m 


'ii 


s^tHi^ 


LIFE   OP   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


75 


where  abound  in  that  far  famed  Isle.  Soon  it 
assumed  the  appearance  of  a  shapeless  mass, 
interesting  only  from  the  consideration  that  it 
was  our  native  land. 

0  England  !    my  home,  thy  scenes  I  love  well  ; 
Home,  where  contentment  and  happiness  dwell  ; 
Home,  where  my  infantile  weakness  was  nursed. 
The  place  where  my  parents  saluted  me  first  ; 
Though  thy  walls  may  be  hid  beyond  the  g^eat  deep, 
And  the  Atlantic  billows  between  us  do  Fwcep  ; 
Thou'rt  the  home  of  my  fathers — the  place  of  my  birth. 
And  more  precious  to  me  than  the  wealth  of  the  earth. 

Home,  where  domestic  enjoyment  abounds, 
Home,  where  the  pleasures  of  kindred  are  found. 
Home,  where  a  father  instructed  my  youth. 
And  a  mother's  fund  care  taught  me  virtue  and  truth; 
Where  health  strew M  her  roses  and  sorrow  beguiled. 
Where  indnstr}'  reigned,  and  where  charity  smiled; 
When  I  think  on  thy  charms,  can  I  quell  tlie  big  tear  1 
Thou  home  of  my  fathers  to  memory  dear. 

Home,  where  religion  her  influence  blends. 
And  the  incense  of  prayer  to  Jehovah  ascends  ; 
Where  the  hymn  of  devotion  in  rapture  is  sung, 
And  hopes  of  salvation  on  Jesus  are  hung. 
On  thee  my  thoughts  centre — thy  pleasures  so  pure: 

1  ne'er  can  forget  thee  while  life  shall  endure; 
O  may  that  allurement  forever  remain. 

For  there  I  first  learned  to  speak  Jesus's  uame. 

Home  !  there's  a  magical  spell  in  thy  name. 
Wherever  I  wander,  thy  scenes  I  retain  ; 

0  ne'er  may  the  bliss  that  twines  round  thee  depart, 
Thou  home  of  my  fathers — thou  joy  of  my  heart  ! 
Farewell  \o  the  shores  of  my  dear  native  home  ; 
Farewell,  for  I  leave  thee,  perhaps  ne'er  to  return. 
With  parents  most  dear,  wlu/se  tears  cannot  quell, 

1  sighingly  take  the  sad,  painful  Farewell  ! 

The  wind  continued  full  in  our  favor,  and 
extending  every  sail  to  catch  the  friendly  breeze, 
we  made  rapid   progress,  which  circumstance 


76 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


',     '( 


\i 


lighted  up  every  countenance  with  joy  and 
gladness,  and  tended  much  to  dissipate  the 
melancholy  of  which  we  were  the  subjects. 

But,  man  is  inconsiderate  and  thoughtless  ; 
in  the  hour  of  prosperity  he  forgets  the  coming 
dangers  which  tread  close  upon  the  heels  of 
safety.  In  his  prosperous  moments  he  is  un- 
mindful that  his  circumstances  are  changeable; 
that  there  is  a  superior  being  who  superintends 
the  concerns  of  his  creatures,  and  who  claims 
their  homage  and  worship.  Hence,  to  show 
us  the  instability  of  earthly  things,  God  often 
brings  us  to  experience  painful  and  opposing 
providences,  which  are  real  mercies,  as  they 
are  sent  to  save  us  from  greater  evils,  and  to 
promote  our  highest  good. 

But  to  return,  after  sailing  thus,about  a  week, 
we  experienced  a  painful  change  ;  the  breeze, 
hitherto  obedient  to  our  wishes,became  adverse 
and  furious.     The  waves  which  had  previously 
playfully  smacked  jur  vessel's  side,  now  foam- 
ing with  rage,  threatened  distruction  to  our  cra- 
zy bark,  and  so  furious  was  the  storm  that  we 
expected  every  hour  to  be  sent  to  the  bottom  ; 
the  sea  broke  furiously  over  the  deck,  washing 
and  driving  us  from  side  to  side.     Amid  these 
gloomy  hours  of  fearfulness  and  sorrow,  I  com- 
posed myself  as  much   as  possible  by  praying 
and  singing  hymns  to  him  whose   power  alone 
could  calm  "  the  raging  seas."     I  always  felt 
disposed  to  be  on  deck  when  they  would  permit 
me,  watching  the  progress  of  the  storm,or  read- 
ing the  feelings  of  the  crew  by  their  physiog- 


oy  and 
ate  the 
its. 

;htless  ; 
coming 
eels  of 
)  is  un- 
geable; 
intends 
»  claims 
to  show 
d  often 
pposing 
as  they 
and  to 

a  week, 
breeze, 
adverse 
viously 
w  foam- 
our  era- 
hat  we 
)ottom  ; 
vashing 
these 

I  com- 
praying 
alone 
ays  felt 

permit 
or  read- 
>hysiog- 


m 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


77 


d 


\Y 


nomy.  For  about  two  weeks,  the  storm  con- 
tinued, during  which,  we  could  only  keep  one 
sheet  to  the  wind,  every  other  sail  being  close- 
ly reefed.  After  the  storm  subsided  we  spoke 
with  several  ships,  which  tended  greatly  to  en- 
liven our  spirits.  At  length,  after  many  storms 
and  dangers,  we  heard  the  welcome  cry  of 
Land  from  the  man  at  the  mast  head,  which  we 
found  by  examination  to  be  the  American 
coast.  The  wind  was  now  fair,  and  both  troops 
and  crew  were  anxious  and  impatient  to  enter 
the  river  St.  Lawrance,  when  unfortunately  we 
ran  the  ship  aground.  This  sudden  and  un- 
expected disaster  occasioned  much  excitement 
and  tumult,  as  we  were  under  the  necessity  of 
unloading  the  ship  or  waiting  the  return  of  the 
tide  ;  the  latter  appeared  the  most  dangerous 
course,  and  we  adopted  the  former.  It  was 
accordingly  thought  prudent  to  throw  away  our 
water  ;  the  pumps  were  immediately  set  to 
work  and  our  water  disposed  of,  except  a  scan- 
ty portion,  to  serve  us  till  we  gained  the  river. 
After  this  was  done,  a  boat  with  two  anchors 
was  sent  astern  of  the  ship  and  sunk,  and  the 
troops  plying  well  at  the  winches,we  succeeded 
in  getting  her  off*  into  deep  water,  suffering  no 
other  loss  but  our  water.  We  again  suffered 
from  adverse  winds,  which  kept  us  beating 
about  for  several  days,  and  had  like  to  have 
been  productive  of  death,  worse  than  drown- 
ing, viz.  death  by  thirst.  Our  water  became 
almost  exhausted,  and  what  remained  was  so 
loathesome  (it  stank  like  carrion)  it  was  obnox- 


,  J 


TF!    -t: 


78 


LIFE   OF   VV.  B.  LIGUTON. 


f 


^1 


ious  to  the  taste,  and  our  allowance,  even  of 
this,  was  so  scanty  it  was  not  enough  to  sustain 
nature  ;  about  one  half  pint  per  day  being  each 
man's  share.  The  great  heat  of  the  day  served 
to  enhance  our  misery  ;  our  tongues  failed  for 
thirst,  and  we  were  ready  to  faint.  Such  was 
my  distress  that  I  vainly  strove  to  quench  it 
with  sea  water,  but  its  insufferable  saltness  de- 
terred me  from  making  more  than  one  trial, 
and  once  I  procured  a  portion  from  the  hogs- 
head by  stealth,  notwithstanding  the  orders  of 
the  comm.iiidei  and  the  scrutiny  of  the  sentinel 
placed  Over  it  to  protect  it  from  the  pilferings 
of  the  tro  ps,  iv?<\  although  it  was  disgusting  to 
the  taste,  yet,  in  my  circumstances,  it  proved  a 
most  refresing  draught. 

But  before  I  proceed  further  I  beg  leave  to 
lay  before  the  reader  a  means  of  preserving 
water  for  any  length  of  time,  sweet  and  whole- 
some. Families,  as  well  as  mariners,  often 
suffer  much  from  water  losing  its  sweetness,  in 
situations  where  they  cannot  enjoy  the  privilege 
of  drawing  it  immediately  from  the  chrystal 
spring,  but  have  to  secure  it  by  means  of  cis- 
terns, or  otherwise,  and  as  I  shall  have  no  bet- 
ter opportunity  to  meution  it,  I  shall  do  it  here, 
believing  it  to  be  of  importance  to  some  of  my 
fellow  creatures. 

"  In  order  to  keep  fresh  wateir  sweet,  take 
of  fine,  clear,  white,  pearl  ashes,  a  quarter  of  a 
pound,  of  avoirdupois  weight,  and  put  it  into 
one  hundred  gallons  of  fresh  water,  (observing 
this  proportion   to  a  greater  or   less  quantity) 


LIFK  OF  W.  B.  I.IGHTON. 


79 


(ven  of 
sustain 
ig  each 
served 
iled  for 
ich  was 
ench  it 
less  de- 
e  trial, 
3  hogs- 
•ders  of 
sentinel 
ilferings 
isting  to 
)roved  a 

leave  to 
3serving 
1  whole- 
s,  often 
tness,  in 
)rivilege 
chrystal 
s  of  cis- 
no  bet- 
it  here, 
ie  of  my 

et,  take 
irter  of  a 
Lit  it  into 
b serving 
:[uantity) 


1/ 


and  stop  up  your  cask  as  usual,  till  you  have 
occasion  to  broach  it  for  use.  As  an  instance 
of  its  utility  and  success,  Dr.  Butler  put  an 
ounce  of  pearl  ashes  into  a  twenty-five  gallon 
cask  of  Thames  water,  which  he  stopt  up  very 
close,  and  let  it  stand  for  upwards  of  a  year 
and  a  half,  opening  it  once  in  four  months,  and 
constantly  found  it  in  the  same  unaltered  con- 
dition, and  perfectly  sweet  and  good. 

To  the  mariner,  the  following  receipt  from 
the  same  author  may  not  be  unacceptable.  To 
make  sea  water  fresh,  "  take  bees-wax  and 
mould  it  into  the  form  of  an  empty,  hollow  ves- 
sel ;  sink  the  vessel  into  the  sea,  and  the  water, 
after  a  while,  will  work  its  way  through  the 
pores  of  the  wax,  and  the  quantity  contained 
in  the  vessel  will  be  fresh,  and  good  for  use." 

"  But  fresh  water  may  be  had  in  much  great- 
er plenty,  and  more  expeditiously,  by  filling  a 
vessel  with  river  sand,  or  gravel,  and  pouring 
salt  water  upon  it.*  The  vessel  must  be  per- 
forated at  the  bottom,  and  by  applying  a  linen 
strainer,  the  water,  after  undergoing  a  few  fil- 
trations,  will  lose  all  its  brackish  taste."  Were 
this  plan  generally  adopted  it  sea,  how  much 
misery  occasioned  by  thirst  might  be  avoided. 

But  to  return  ;  we  were  now  enveloped  in  a 
dense  fog,  so  thick  that  we  could  not  see  a  rod 
beyond  the  bows  of  the  ship,  and  after  sailing 
several  days  in  this  situation,  and  having  ar- 
rived, though  unknowingly,  into  the  Gulf  of  St. 

•The  method  pursued  in  this  case  is  similar  to  that  we  pur- 
•ue  in  leachirior  ashes  to  obtain  iev. 
8 


80 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


ff 


"■  s 


Lawrence,  one  morning  between  the  hours  of 
twelve  and  four,  the  Captain  was  aroused  by  a 
tremendous  grating  as  if  the  ship  had  come  in 
contact  with  some  rocks  ;  lie  rushed  upon  deck 
in  his  shirt,  and  with  a  voice  that  thrilled  every 
heart,  shouted,  *'  about,  ship,  or  we  are  lost,^^ 
The  command  was  sudden  and  unexpected  ;  a 
momentary  pause  ensued,  none  dared  move  a 
step  till  the  Captain  a  second  time  reiterated 
his  order.  The  men  seeing  their  danger,  flew 
each  to  his  station,  and  aided  by  the  troops  of 
the  second  watch,  about  sixty  in  number,  soon 
succeeded  in  bringing  her  about.  It  was  then 
discoverable  that  a  few  moments  longer  would 
have  hurried  us  upon  a  massive  ledge  of  rocks, 
where  all  must  inevitably  have  perished.  Prov- 
idence, kind  Providence,  alone  effected  our 
rescue,  for  had  not  the  Captain  awoke  at  that 
precise  moment,  all  must  have  been  lost  ! 

Turning  from  this  scene  of  danger  we  felt 
ourselves  inspired  with  new  courage,  but  were 
soon  alarmed  again  by  a  similar  cause,  which 
circumstance  induced  us  to  cast  anchor,  and 
wait  for  day.  We  might  here  notice  the  fact 
that  during  all  this  alarm,  two  of  the  watches, 
amounting  to  over  a  hundred  men,  were  fast 
asleep,  below,  ignorant  of  their  danger,  and 
when  the  anchor  was  dropped,  drawing  after  it 
the  huge  chain  cable,  which  made  a  report  as 
if  the  ship  was  smashing  to  pieces,  it  aroused 
them  from  their  peaceful  slumbers  in  a  moment, 
and  sent  some  in  horrid  confusion  and  nuddity 
to  the  deck,  screaming   and  crying  for  mercy, 


4 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


81 


ours  of 
;cd  by  a 
come  in 
on  deck 
id  every 
re  lost.^^ 
cted  ;  a 
move  a 
^iterated 
er,  flew 
roops  of 
er,  soon 
,vas  then 
er  would 
>f  rocks, 
d.  Prov- 
cted  our 
c  at  that 
t! 

we  felt 
jut  were 
e,  which 
lor,   and 
the  fact 
watches, 
were  fast 
ger,  and 
g  after  it 
report  as 
aroused 
moment, 
i  nuddity 
)r  mercy, 


and  it  was  sometime  before  they  could  be  per- 
suaded of  their  safety,  so  as  to  retire  again  to 
their  couches. 

We  remained  at  anchor  till  day  light,  when 
we  again  weighed  anchor,  and  gaily  and  rapid- 
ly ascended  the  majestic  St.  Lawrence,  from 
whence  we  soon  obtained  refreshing  draughts  of 
water.  We  soon  hailed,  and  obtained  a  pilot, 
but  the  wind  changing  and  operating  against 
us,  we  could  only  progress  when  the  tide  was 
ascending,  laying  at  anchor  when  it  receded, 
during  which  seasons  we  were  much  enlivened 
by  the  appearance  of  the  country,  and  by  the 
converse  of  the  passengers  and  crews  of  other 
ships.  I  should  have  been  glad  could  we  have 
seen  more  of  the  country  as  we  passed  it,  when 
on  the  sail,  but  such  was  the  tyranny  of  our 
officers,  that  we  could  not  have  this  desirable 
privilege  allowed  us,  as  we  were  much  of  the 
time,  hatched  down  in  the  ship's  hold  like  con- 
victs. 

Before  I  proceed  further,  I  will  state  an  in- 
stance wherein  may  be  seen  the  cruel  tyranny 
and  injustice  of  the  commanding  officer  of  the 
troops  on  board.  At  one  time  on  our  passage  I 
had  washed  my  clothes  and  hung  them  out  on 
the  rigging,  and  in  the  night  they  were  stolen. 
In  the  morning,  finding  they  were  gone,  I  made 
immediate  inquiry,  and  found  them  in  posses- 
sion of  one  of  the  soldiers.  I  took  the  proper 
measure  to  report  him  to  the  officer,  to  get  sat- 
isfaction in  the  restoration  of  my  articles  ;  but 
he,  far  from  showing  me  justice,  bid  me  "  be 


82 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  I.IGHTON. 


li'i 


r 


goney  and  threatened  "//la/  j/'/ie  /lewrd  another 
word  from  me  he  would  put  me  into  confinement.^^ 
Thus,  after  the  clearest  identitication  of  my 
property,!  was  silenced,  slave  likcy  by  a  haughty 
tyrant.  How  applicable  md  true  the  proverb 
in  this  case.  **  When  subjects  arc  ill-treated  by 
subaltern  ofRcers,  and  cannot  make  remon- 
strance to  the  prince,  because  the  too  great  au- 
thority of  the  ministers  of  state  deprives  them 
of  the  means;  their  lot  is  like  that  of  a  man, 
who,  half  dead  with  thirst,  approaches  a  river 
to  drink,  but,  perceiving  a  crocodile,  is  obliged 
to  perish  for  lack  of  water,  or  submit  to  be  de~ 
vouredi" 

But  we  soon  arrived  in  full  view  of  the  city 
of  Quebec,  where  we  had  a  pleasant  sight  of 
its  most  elegant  buildings  and  fortifications, 
which  sight  produced  the  greatest  animation, 
from  the  consideration  that  vvc  were  near  the 
place  of  destination,  wh^^rc  we  fondly  hoped 
that  our  troubles  would  at  least  be  mitigated,  if 
they  did  not  cease.  My  heart  palpitated  with 
joy  as  I  heard  our  salute  fired  from  the  can- 
non on  the  battery  ;  soon  after,  we  cast  anchor 
about  half  a  mile  from  the  shore  in  front  of  the 
city.  We  were  soon  attc  nded  with  boats  which 
came  laded  with  provisions  for  the  supply  of  our 
wants,  upon  which  we  teaslcd  like  men  who 
had  narrowly  escaped  starvation.  It  was  seven 
weeks  from  the  time  we  \ei\  Cowcs,  till  we  lan- 
ded at  Quebec.  The  day  vafter  our  arrival, 
another  ship,  containin<»  two  hundred  troops, 
arrived,  which   had  made  tlio  voyage  in   four 


Liri:  or  ^v.  li.  Li(iiiTo.\. 


83 


another 
cment.^^ 
of  my 
laugbty 
proverb 
ated  by 
rcmon- 
reat  au- 
Lis  them 
a  mail, 
a  river 
obliged 
►  be  de- 
he  city 
ight    of 
cations, 
mation, 
lear  the 
hoped 
ated,  if 
ed  with 
le   can- 
anchor 
t  of  the 
s  which 
^  of  our 
n   who 
s  seven 
we  Ian- 
arrival, 
troops, 
in   four 


weekM  only.     The  next  day  we  were  uU   put  on 
board  u  steam  boat,  and  taken  to   Montreal,  in 
possession    of  good    health    niuT  spirits.     The 
officers  of  the    regiment  were  waiting  to  board 
us,  immediately  on  our    arrival   at   the   wharf, 
whoso   manner    towards    us,   was   allable,  and 
kind  :  they   congratuUUed  us  upon    our  arrival, 
and  witliout   any    nppear.'ince  nf  harshness,  pa- 
raded us  onboard  the  steamboat,  and  marched 
us  up  to  tlie   barracivs,  wliere   wv.  were   kindly 
received  by   tiie   old    si>I(liers  o(  the  regimciK^ 
who  willingly   dividi^d   their  provisions    among 
us,  to   meet    our  wants.      We  were  all  retained 
in  the  barracks  yard,  until  divided,  and  allotted 
to  the   diderent  companies  during  which  time  I 
was  visited  by  two  Knglish  ollicers,  who  ques- 
tioned  me   closely,  concerning  my   parentage, 
history,  &c.   with    evident  symptoms  of  respect 
for  my  youth,  which  probably,  tiist  excited  their 
curiosity.     It  was  into  their  company  that  I  was 
drafted,  at  which  I    was   not    a    little    pleased. 
We  were,  for  a  few   days,  treated  with  consid- 
erable kindness  and  lenity,  during  which  time, 
many   of  us    visited   the   ancient   and    antique 
buildings   of  the  city,  which  to  my   mind,  pre- 
sented but  a  poor  contrast  to  the  splendid  cities 
of  England.     I  was  not  a  little  surprised,  also, 
at   the   appearance    of   the   regiment  :    it  was 
made  up  of  almost  every  nation  upon  earth  ;  in 
fact,  there  were  English, Irish,  Scotch,  French, 
Germans,  Portuguese,  Spaniards,  Italians,  and 
Dutch  ;  nn  assemblage  which   made  no   very 
pleasing  impression  upon  my  mind.     Many  of 
8* 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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i 


84 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


them  possessed  the  fierceness  of  Indian  warri- 
ors, but  exhibited,  in  the  whole,  the  diversified 
peculiarities  of  the  several  nations  to  which 
they  belonged.  Some  bore  about  with  them 
the  marks  of  distinguished  zeal  and  piety  ; 
others  were  totally  void  of  every  feeling  or  sen- 
timent, but  that  of  superstition  and  vice  ;  and 
had  they  been  as  active  for  God  and  religion, 
as  th^y  were  for  vice  and  impiety,  they  would 
have  been  good  Christians  ;  while  others  seem- 
ed to  possess  all  the  brutality  and  stupidity  of 
brutes  Withal,  I  felt  surprised  that  the  Brit- 
ish soldiers  should  so  far  imitate  the  semi-bar- 
barians as  to  wear  the  beard  long  upon  the  up- 
per lip,  which  was  the  case  at  that  time,  al- 
though it  was  discontinued  shortly  after.  Our 
officers  were  mostly  men  of  pliant  dispositions, 
and  by  nation,  were  English,  Irish,  Scotch,and 
Germans  ;  our  commanding  officer.  Colonel 
Fitsgerald,  was  an  Irishman  by  birth,  a  gentle- 
man by  education  and  property,  and  possessed 
a  disposition  that  rendered  him  beloved  by  eve- 
ry soldier  under  his  command.  His  lady  was 
a  woman  equally  admired,  possessing  qualifi- 
cations rarely  discoverable  in  persons  of  her 
rank;  her  influence  was  great,  and  her  manners 

E leasing  ;  from  her  sympathy  and  efforts  in  be- 
alf  of  poor  delinquents,  she  was  emphatically 
styled  the  '^ prisoner's  advocate.^' 


f 


«i 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


85 


i 


CHAPTER  III. 

An  account  of  hin  trials  and  sufTeringii  from  the  time  he  joined 
his  Regiment,  to  liis  reprieve  from  death  :  containin^j  8om« 
affecting  occurrences. 

By  this  time  we  were  sufficiently  rested  to 
commence  our  military  duties,  and  each  com- 
pany was  placed  under  the  care  of  an  experi- 
enced sergeant,  to  be  fitted  by  drill,  as  soon  as 
possible  to  relieve  the  old  soldiers  from  their 
extremely  arduous  and  excessive  toil.  We 
were  accordingly  taken  to  the  fifeld,  and  kept 
closely  to  our  work,  being  allowed  scarcely  any 
time  for  rest,  or  recreation.  During  this  peri- 
od of  my  life  I  often  thought  of  home  and  pa- 
rents, and  indeed,  I  wrote,  until  receiving  no 
answers  to  any  of  my  letters,  my  patience  be- 
came exhausted,  and  I  ceased  writing  for  a  con- 
siderable time. 

In  connection  with  our  fatiguing  drill,  which 
was  so  irksome  that  we  were  glad  to  retire  to 
bed  as  soon  as  the  hour  arrived,  was  the  evil 
we  experienced  from  being  tormented  half  to 
death  with  bed  bugs,  which  would  come  upon 
us  in  swarms,  and  bite  us  so  severely  in  our 
sleeping  hours,  that  we  could  not  rest.  My 
method  in  revenging  myself  upon  these  crea- 
tures, was  this  :  after  I  had  retired  to  bed,  to 
net  a  light  near  by,  where  I  could  readily  grasp 
it,  but  hiding  it  so  as  to  have  no  light  discover- 
able, I  would  lay   down   my  head,  when,  no 


il 


'1 


86 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


sooner  done  than  they  perceiving  an  opportuni- 
ty to  fall  upon  their   prey,  would   surround  my 
head  and  neck  in   multitudes.     Provoked   at 
their  invasion,  I  would   spring  for  my  light  and 
destroy  all  I  could  as  they  retired  to  their  re- 
treat.    But  as  this  method  had  but  little  effect, 
other  than  that  it   produced  an  unaccountable 
stench,  I  next  took  my  bed,  and  making  it  up, 
on  the  floor  of  the  room,  made  a  trench  of  water 
round    it   that  might  prevent   their   approach. 
But  though   this  was  successful,  they  were  not 
defeated  ;  but  still  made  their  ravages  by  falling 
down  upon  me  from  the  floor  of  the  upper  room, 
so  that  in  fact,  my  case  was   not   in   the   least 
ameliorated  ;  in  consequence  of  which,  I  was 
obliged  to  submit,  without  a  remedy,  to  these 
unmerciful  tormenters.     And  many  of  the  sol- 
diers, from  the  same  cause  slept  out  in  the  bar- 
racks yard,  in  the  open  air,  but  its  effect  was 
evidently   more   injurious   than  the  torment  of 
bed  bugs. 

We  were  oflen  called  to  witness  the  punish- 
ment of  criminals,  who,  for  crimes  of  different 
grades  were  brought  forward  to  receive  merited 
punishment.  On  these  occasions,  our  humane 
Colonel  would  turn  aside  his  head  and  weep, 
and  would  generally  remit  the  greatest  portion 
of  the  unhappy  man's  punishment  ;  and,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  existing  law,  he  would  have 
dispensed,  in  his  regiment,  with  that  kind  of 
punishment  entirely. 

It  was  our  misfortune  shortly  to  lose  this  hu- 
mane and  valuable  oflficer,  he  being  appointed 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


87 


tuni- 
i  my 
d   at 
t  and 
•  re- 
ffect, 
itable 
t  up, 
water 
oach. 
•e  not 
ailing 
room, 
least 
I  was 
these 
le  sol- 
e  bar- 
t  was 
ent  of 

unish- 
Terent 
lerited 
amane 
weep, 
)ortion 
had  it 
have 
ind  of 

lis  hu- 
)oiated 


to  a  higher  station.  He  was  succeeded  by  a 
Colonel  Andrews,  a  Scotchman,  and  of  a  dis- 
position precisely  different  from  his  predeces- 
sor in  every  respect ;  and  his  conduct,  when 
he  assumed  the  command,  seemed  as  if  he  had 
determined  to  ruin  the  confidence,  and  destroy 
the  happiness  of  the  regiment.  He  commen- 
ced by  driving  the  troops,  both  old  and  young, 
into  the  field  for  exercise,  a  measure  entirely 
useless,  and  highly  offensive  to  the  old  troops, 
as  they  had  not  been  used  for  many  years,  to 
such  treatment.  They  grumbled  and  complain- 
ed loudly,  at  being  thus  hammered  and  drilled 
about,  in  the  fundamental  principles  of  their 
duty  which  they  all  perfectly  understood.  The 
harshness  of  our  new  Colonel,  and  the  severe 
punishments  he  inflicted  for  minor  and  trivial 
offences,  caused  many  of  the  soldiers  to  de- 
sert ;  some  of  whom  were  unfortunate  enough 
to  be  taken  prisoners.  They  were  tried  by 
court  martials,  and  sentenced  to  seven  hundred 
lashes  :  such  spectacles,  as  we  have  already 
hinted,  were  cruel  and  savage  in  the  extreme. 


-The  poor  condemned  soldiers. 


Like  culprits  doomed  to  cruel  torture. 
Would  sit  impatient,  and  inly  ruminate 
The  morning's  danger;  and  their  gestures  sad. 
Investing  pallid  cheeks,  and  sunken  hearts. 
Presenting  then}  unto  the  gazing  throng 
Like  so  many  horrid  ghosts. 

But,  as  I  design  to  be  more  particular  in 
giving  an  account  of  the  punishment,  a  scene 
of  which  I  was  an  eye  witness,  while  among 
them,  I   shall  give  it  here,  without  attempting 


88 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


|l    i 


'! 


to  affect  any  thing  from  what  it  is  in  reality, 
and  what  every  one  knows,  who  has  been  ac- 
quainted with  the  British  military  character. 

Whenever  a  soldier  was  found  guilty  of  a 
crime,    and   condemned   to  receive    corporeal 
punishment,   he  was  confined  under  guard,  till 
the  morning  specified  in  his  court  martial,when 
he  should  receive  his  punishment.     The  troops 
were  then   formed   into  a  square  of  two  deep, 
and  the   ^*  triangle,'''^   an  instrument   made  for 
the  purpose,  was  brought  and  placed,  composed 
of  three  poles,  with  a  bolt  to  fasten  them  to- 
gether  at  the  upper  end,  and   spread  wide  en- 
ough to   fasten  the  prisoners  legs  and  hands  to 
two  of  them  :  this,  with  a  board  that  run  across 
to  each  pole  for  the  prisoner  to  bear  his  breast 
upon,    completed   the    barbarous    instrument. 
Next,  the   poor  criminal,  guarded  by  a  file  of 
soldiers  and  an  ofliicer,  is  conducted  to  the  tri- 
angle,  where   they  remain  until  the   adjutant 
reads  his  court  martial  and  sentence.     After 
which,  the  commanding  ofliicer  gives  the  word 
"  proceed  to  punishment,"  when  the  criminal 
is  stript  to  his  naked  back,  and  tied  firmly  with 
cords  round  his  ancles  and  wrists,  to  the  two 
spars  of  the  triangle  ;  thus,  in  a  forward,  lean- 
ing posture,  he  is  stretched,  ready  to  receive 
the  application  of  the  whip.     The  company  of 
musicians,  with  the  drum  or  bugle-major,  take 
their  stand  in  single  file  in  rear  of  the  prisoner, 
as  also  the   surgeon  of  the   regiment,   who  is 
there  to  watch   the   symptoms  of  the   sufferer, 
and  to  relieve  him  if  he  thinks  he  is  not  able  to 


ality, 

in  ac- 

;er. 

1  of  a 

joreal 

-d,  till 

jwhen 

troops 
deep, 

de  for 

iposed 

Bm  to- 

de  en- 

inds  to 
across 
breast 

ument. 
file  of 

the  tri- 
djutant 
After 
word 
riminal 
ly  with 
he  two 
d,  lean- 
receive 
)any  of 
,  take 
risoner, 
who  is 
mfferer, 
able  to 


i 


'  I 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


89 


t  s. 


endure  his  punishment.  The  bugle-major  then 
orders  the  first  musician  next  to  him  to  take  his 
stand  at  the  post  of  duty,  which  he  does  within 
about  one  pace  of  the  criminal ;  and  thus,  with 
a  cat  of  nine  tails  in  his  hand,  proceeds,  and 
inflicts  the  cat  at  every  time  the  bugle-major 
counts,  which  is  about  once  in  every  four  sec- 
onds. Thus  commences  this  painful  scene.  At 
the  end  of  every  twenty-five  lashes  the  execu- 
tioner is  relieved  by  a  fresh  hand  who  is  bound 
to  inflict  the  lacerating  lash  with  all  his  might. 
The  following  is  a  description  of  the  whip,  or 
cat  of  nine  tails,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
used.  The  cat  itself  is  composed  of  nine  sep- 
arate and  distinct  cords,  between  an  eighth  and 
a  quarter  of  an  inch  in  size,  twisted  very  hard, 
and  having  on  each  strand,  three  nots,  tied  at 
regular  distance,  near  the  end  ;  sometimes 
these  have  been  fixed  with  wire,  to  make  the 
punishment  more  severe  and  excrutiating.  The 
length  of  these  cats  are  about  eighteen  inches 
from  the  stock,  and  the  stock  itself,  about  fif^ 
teen  inches  long.  The  manner  in  which  it  is 
compelled  to  be  used,  is  indeed  the  most  sur- 
prising, and  inhuman.  ^  The  executioner,  as  he 
stands,  raises  his  body  with  a  nervous  exertion, 
applies  his  whip  with  all  his  strength,  then  with 
a  singular  whirl,  brings  it  again  to  his  right, 
ready  for  the  second  application.  And,  in  case 
the  executioner  should  be  remiss  in  his  duty, 
the  bugle-major  alarms  him  of  it,  by  flogging 
him  on  the  shoulder  with  a  whip.  It  will  be 
observed  that  all  the  while  the  executioners  are 
9 


90 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


!   ■ 


obliged  to  be  stript  in  their  shirt  sleeves  :  this 
needs  no  comment ! 

The  effect  this  kind  of  punishment  had  upon 
its  piteous  sufferers,  is  almost  too  appalling  to 
mention.  The  first  blow  usually  called  forth 
his  groans.  The  first  twenty-five  lashes  gen- 
erally fetched  blood  ;  the  first  hundred  would 
tear  the  fiesh  almost  to  pieces,  and  before  he 
had  received  the  whole  of  his  punishment  the 
blood  would  run  copiously  down  his  back,  run- 
ning in  streams  into  his  shoes,  and  flooding  the 
ground.  In  this  distressed  situation,  with  his 
back  mangled  as  if  ravinous  dogs  had  fed  upon 
it,  the  poor  culprit  would  beg  for  mercy,  but  in 
vain  ;  sometimes  he  would  fill  the  unconscious 
air  with  his  piteous  groans  and  bowlings,  and 
beg  for  the  remission  of  half  the  sentence,  ex- 
claiming, like  Cain,  "mi/  punishincnt  is  greater 
than  I  can  'oear^  But  no  ;  the  cruel  appetite 
of  the  Colonel  must  be  glutted  to  its  full  ;  he 
would  stand  unmoved  at  the  painful  and  bloody 
spectacle,  and  sometimes,  biting  his  lips  (one 
of  his  peculiarities)  would  walk  in  front  of  the 
troops,  as  unconcerned  as  if  the  scene  before 
him  was  one  of  the  most  pleasing  nature.  But 
not  so  with  the  soldiers,  for  their  hearts  were 
touched  with  compassion,  and  many  of  them 
fainted,  and  fell  to  the  ground  ;  and  others 
turned  their  heads  from  beholding  the  inhuman 
spectacle.  These  punishments  were  always 
attended  within  the  walls  of  the  barracks-yard, 
and  every  entrance  to  the  streets,  closed,  to 
prevent  the  inhabitants  from  coming  in,  or  oth- 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


91 


:  this 

upon 
ing  to 

forth 
s  gen- 
would 
jre  he 
jnt  the 
i,  Tun- 
ing the 
ath  his 
d  upon 
,  but  in 
Qscious 
and 
,  ex- 
grealer 
ippetite 

nil ;   he 

bloody 

ps  (one 

of  the 

before 

.     But 

s  were 

)f  them 

others 
nhuman 

always 
ss-yard, 
osed,  to 

or  oth- 


5S. 
ice 


erwise  to  prevent  them  from  a  knowledge  of 
what  was  transpiring.  And,  indeed,  well  they 
might  seclude  their  diabolical  and  hellish  deed; 
for  it  was  too  barbarous  for  humanity  to  look 
upon  and  not  weep.  It  was  a  punishment  as 
bitter  as  death  ! — a  punishment  which  the  hea- 
then savages  in  comparison  with  civilized  Eng- 
land, would  shudder  to  inflict  upon  their  vilest 
enemy.  After  the  execution,  a  wet  cloth  was 
thrown  on  the  back  of  the  prisoner  and  he  was 
conveyed  to  the  hospital,  more  dead  than  alive, 
to  be  cured  ;  which  would  take  from  a  month 
to  six  weeks,  if  he  ever  recovered  at  all. 

Such  indeed  has  been  the  horrid  effect  of  this 
punishment,  that  many  have  been  known  to  die 
in  receiving  it,  and  others  have  had  their  flesh 
whipped  off,  so  that  their  bowels  have  fallen 
out.  What  brutality  is  this  for  man  to  be  guilty 
of  !  Surely,  it  is  abominable  and  devilish  in  the 
extreme.  It  has  not  its  parallel  but  among 
the  savage  nations  of  the  earth  !  O  England  ! 
my  country,  can  this  be  thy  crime  ?  Are  my 
countrymen  so  destitute  of  humanity,  as  to  be 
deservedly  ranked  among  the  savages  of  the 
forests  ?  May  God  forbid  it,  and  the  holy  re- 
ligion you  profess  to  love  !  Banish  this  evil  ; 
banish  it,  I  say,  from  thy  land,  that  thy  cruelty 
and  thy  crimes  may  not  be  in  such  black  array 
against  thee  !  Before  I  dispense  with  this  sub- 
ject, I  will  give  the  note  at  large,  of  the  cele- 
brated writer,  Doctor  Clarke,  that  the  reader 
may  judge,  and  receive  more  credibly,  the 
above,  from  what  he  writes  upon  this  subject. 


92 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


Those  who  possess  his  commentary  may  find  it 
in  Deut.  xxv.  3.     "For/w  stripes  ye  may  give 
him,  and  NOT  EXCEED. '»     "According," 
says  the  Doctor,  "to  God's  institution,  a  crim- 
inal may  receive  forty  stripes  :  not  one  more  ! 
But  is  the  institution  from  above  or  not,  that  for 
any  offence,  sentences  a  man  to  receive  three 
hundred,  yea,  a  thousand  stripes  ?     What  hor- 
rible brutality  is  this  !  and  what  a  reproach  to 
human  nature,  and  to  the  nation,  in  which  such 
shocking  barbarities  are  exercised  and  tolera- 
ted !     Most  of  the  inhabitants  of  Great  Britain 
have  heard  of  Lord  Macartney"^ s  Embassy  to  the 
Emperor  of  China  ;  and  they  have  heard,  also, 
of  its  complete  failure  !     But  they  have  not 
heard  of  the  cause.     It  appears  to  have  been 
partly  occasioned  by  the  following  circumstance. 
A  soldier  had  been   convicted  of  some  petty 
traffic  with  one  of  the  natives,  and  he  was  sen- 
tenced,  by  a  court  martial,   to  receive  sixty 
lashes  ! — Hear    my    author  :     "The   soldiers 
were  drawn  up  in  form,in  the  outer  court  of  the 
palace,  where  he  resided,  and  the  poor  culprit 
being  fastened  to  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  great 
portico,  received  his  punishment  without  miti- 
gation.    The  abhorrence  excited  in  the  breasts 
of  the  Chinese,  at  this  cruel  conduct,  as  it  ap- 
peared to  them,   was  demonstrably  proved  by 
their  words  and  looks.     They  expressed  their 
astonishment  that  a  people  professing  the  mild- 
est, the  most  benevolent  religion  on  earth,  as 
they  wished  to  have  it  believed,  could  be  guilty 
of  such  flagrant  inattention  to  its  merciful  die- 


LlFi:  or  W.  R.  LIGHTON, 


93 


ind  it 

f  ^'^^ 
ling," 
crim- 
nore  ! 
lat  for 

three 
it  hor- 
ach  to 
1  such 
tolera- 
Sritain 
/  to  the 
1,  also, 
^e  not 
3  been 
stance. 
I  petty 
IS  sen- 
e  sixty 
oldiers 
;  of  the 

culprit 
3  great 
it  miti- 

)reasts 
it  ap- 

ved  by 
their 
mild- 

irth,  as 
guilty 

ul  dic- 


tates. One  of  tlio  principal  mandarins,  who 
knew  a  little  ICnglish,  expressed  the  general 
sentiment,  ^^EngUshmcn  too  muck  cruel,  too 
much  bad.'''* 

But  the  ill-timed  severity  of  the  Colonel,had  a 
bad  and  injurious  effect  ;  for  while  he  kept  us  at 
exercise  continually,  sometimes  driving  us  to  the 
field  before  the  approach  of  day,  and  punishing 
severely,  the  minor  offences   of  the  men,  the 
troops  deserted  at  every  opportunity;  to  prevent 
this,  he  confined  us  all  to  the  barracks,  for  sev- 
eral weeks,  whereupon,  many  swore  they  would 
desert  immediately  after  they  should  be  liberated, 
and  accordingly,  in  a  short  period,  we  lost,  by  de- 
sertion, upwards  of  a  hundred  men.     This  enra- 
ged the  Colonel  to  the  highest  pitch  of  madness  ; 
and  one  day,  after  parade,  he  formed  us  into  a 
close  body,and  addressed  us  in  the  most  provok- 
ing language,  calling  us — rogues  and  traitors, 
and  threatening  us  with  the  utmost  severity,  if 
we  dared  to  disobey  his  orders.     On  one  occa- 
sion, I  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  fall  beneath  his 
displeasure.  One  day  exercising  on  the  parade, 
the  Colonel  commanding  by  means  of  the  bu- 
gle, he  gave  the   word,    "disperse   and  fire," 
which  was   obeyed   with   alacrity   and   speed, 
when  the  bugle  again  sounded,  "  assemble,  and 
form  ranks  in  double  quick  ;"  we  were   all  full 
of  glee  upon  the  occasion,  being  surrounded 
by  spectators,  when  I  was  noticed  to  be  in  the 
rear,  by  the  adjutant,  who  struck  me  with  his 
sword,  and  took  down  my  name  ;  whereupon, 
I  told  him  the  reason,  which  was,  that  in  a  skir- 
9* 


94 


LIFE   OF   W.    B.    LIGHTON. 


i 


m 


mish,  Q  soldier  accidentally  trod  upon  my  heel, 
and  tore  off  the  sole  of  my  shoe  and  so  hinder- 
ed me  from  running  ;  but  he  answered  me  with 
an  oath,  pushed  me  into  the  ranks,  and  told  me 
I  should  be  punished.  The  next  day  I  was  or- 
dered, with  a  number  of  others,  to  knapsack 
drill,  which  consisted  in  our  being  made  to  ap- 
pear upon  the  parade  ground,  in  iull  marching 
order,  with  our  packs  upon  our  backs,  and  in 
this  situation,  we  were  marched,  and  counter- 
marched, until  our  strength  and  patience  be- 
came exhausted ;  insomuch,  that  regardless 
of  the  consequence,  we  ventured  to  disobey  the 
orders  of  our  commanding  oilicer.  Hence 
when  he  gave  the  word,  "  nght,  or  left  iurn,^^ 
we  would  march  off  in  different  directions,  un- 
til he  became  so  exasperated,  that  he  threaten- 
ed to  put  us  under  guard,  which  threat  creating 
in  us  a  fear  of  a  worse  punishment,  induced  us 
to  submit  quietly,  to  the  remainder  of  our  pun- 
ishment ;  thus  out  of  two  evils  choosing  the 
least. 

The  precautions  of  the  officers  to  prevent 
desertions,  were  such,  that  it  was  now  next  to 
impossible  to  desert,  unless  possessed  of  some 
means  of  conveyance.  We  had  to  answer  the 
roll  call  at  least,  four  times  a  day,  when,  if  it 
was  discovered,  any  soldier  was  missing,  prep- 
arations were  immediately  made  for  his  discov- 
ery and  detection  :  which,  indeed,  rendered  it 
difficult  to  be  absent  long  at  a  time,  without 
incurring  suspicion  and  punishment.  But  so 
unpleasant   was  our  situation,   that  numbers^ 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGRTON. 


9u 


risking  all  danger,  still  deserted,  of  whoni,  some 
escaped  ;  and  others  were  detected.  Among 
the  latter,  was  a  young  Englishman,  named 
Arnold,  who  was  sentenced  to  receive  seven 
hundred  lashes.  While  preparing  to  be  fasten- 
ed to  the  triangle,  he  placed  a  leaden  ball  be-* 
tween  his  teeth,  and  declared  he  would  not  so- 
licit any  remission  of  his  punishment,  from  the 
Colonel,  and  he  maintained  his  word,  receiving 
the  whole  of  the  seven  hundred  lashes,  without 
uttering  an  expression,  and  actually  at  the  close 
of  it,  put  on  his  clothes  without  assistance, 
thanking  them  in  a  low  manner  for  his  break- 
fast, after  which,  he  turned  round  and  ran  out 
of  the  square,  heedless  of  all  authority,  but  the 
Colonel,  dissatisfied  at  his  conduct,  called  him 
back,  and  commanded  him  to  march  out  more 
orderly.  I  beg  leave  further  to  remark  that  the 
ground  where  the  sufferer  stooJ,  was  sprinkled 
with  blood  by  the  whip  which  was  itself  bathed 
in  gore,  so  much  that  the  blood  would  drop  off 
the  end  of  the  cats.  Bui  this  is  not  the  worst, 
for  when  the  whip  is  thus  soaked,  reeking  in 
gore,  it  is  either  washed  in  water,  oi  a  fresh  one 
taken  in  its  place.  Intolerable  tyranny  !  unsuf- 
ferable  brutality  !  / 

In  the  ensuing  spring,  the  same  unfortunate 
individual  made  another  attempt  at  desertion. 
He  lefl  his  post  while  on  guard,  in  company 
with  a  young  man  named  Dackenhousen,  a 
German,  who  was  the  pride  of  the  regiment ; 
but  they  failed  in  making  their  escape,  on  ac- 
count of  the  treachery  of  an  individual  in  whose 


96 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


barn  they  had   taken   refuge.     The  individual 
in  question  having  discovered  their  hiding  place, 
promised  '-ecrecy,  but  rruelly  gave  information 
to  the  officers,  who  rewarded  his  treachery  with 
thirty  dollars.     A  guard  was  accordingly  sent 
for  their  apprehension,  who  soon  returned  with 
their  victims.     Arnold  was  chained  to  a  heavy 
ball^  and  confined,  and  his  case  laid  before  His 
Majesty  at  home,  who  sentenced  him  to  trans- 
portation for  life.     Dackcnhouscn  was  confined 
in  order  to  await  his   tiial    for   desertion,   but 
fearful  of  the  punishment  that  awaited  him,  one 
night,  while  the  guard  were  all  asleep,  except 
the  sentinels,  he  arose,  passed  the  first  sentinel, 
threw  open  the  guard   room  door,  rushed  out 
into  the  barracks  yard,  passed  another  sentinel 
at  the  gate,  and  escaped.     Thus  he  passed  two 
soldiers,  who  were  at  their  posts   with  drawn 
swords,  and  opened  two  gates,  before  the  alarm 
could  be  given.     The  young  soldier  at  the  door 
of  the  guard  house,   afterwards  stated,  that  al- 
though he  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  case,  yet 
he  felt  as  if,  at  the  moment,  he  was  deprived  of 
all  power  to  speak  or  act.     When  the  morning 
arrived  a  number  of  detachments  were  sent  in 
pursuit,  with  loaded  rifles,  and  orders  to  take 
him  dead  or  alive.     Aller  several  days  search, 
they  returned   without  their  prey,  who   escap- 
ed safely  to  the  United  States,  from  whence  he 
wrote  back  to  his  comrades,    inviting  them  all 
to  follow  him,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  fear 
of  detection,  I  verily  believe  the  whole  regi- 
ment would  have  accepted  the  Invitation. 


1 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTOn. 


97 


For  my  own  part,  I  heartily  wished  myself 
free  from  so  slavish  a  life,  though  I  could  not 
at  once  resolve  upon  my  liberation,  the  scenes 
of  punishment,  of  which  I  had  been  witness, 
were  vividly  impressed  upon  my  imagination, 
and  I  would  have  preferred  death  to  enduring 
it.  Sometimes  I  strove  to  resign  myself  pa- 
tiently to  my  fate  ;  but  the  reflection  that  my 
woes  would  terminate  only  with  my  life,  pre- 
vented such  a  feeling  of  resignation  ;  and  what 
tended  to  increase  my  dissatisfaction,  was  the 
fact  that  the  regiment  I  belonged  to,  was  for 
some  cause  or  other,  a  transported  corps.  The 
thought  that  I  was  incorporated  with  a  con- 
demned regiment,  slung  me  to  the  quick,  espe- 
cially as  I  saw  no  prospect  of  again  seeing  my 
dear  parents,  so  long  as  the  corps  remained  un- 
der the  displeasure  of  His  Majesty  ;  and  should 
che  aspect  of  things  change  for  the  better,  I 
knew  my  life,  at  best,  would  be  miserable. 

To  add  to  my  uneasiness,  I  obtained  no  com* 
munications  from  home,  although  I  wrote  again 
and  again  ;  this  led  to  the  conclusion,  that  my 
parents  indignant  at  my  past  disobedience,  had 
resolved  to  leave  me  to  my  fate,and  never  again 
manifest  any  concern  for  my  welfare.  My 
mental  conflicts,  from  these  united  causes,  bo* 
came  almost  insupportable  ;  which,  together 
with  my  insufferable  hardships,  almost  drove  me 
into  the  vortex  of  dissipation,  which  the  insid* 
ious  tempter  of  man,  secretly  intimated,  would 
afford  me  relief,  or  at  least  a  mitigation  of  m^ 
sorrows.     But,  by  the  blessing  of  God  I  wav 


iMirlH 


a 


I 


98 


LIFE   OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


saved  from  this  horrible  course,  and  my  mind 
directed  to  the  great  author  of  all,  for  support 
and  succor,  and  often  have  I  in  the  darkness  of 
night,  knelt  in  my  bed,  and  poured  out  my  com- 
plaint to  the  Lord  of  creation.  But  I  was,  as 
it  were,  a  heathen,  knowing  little  else  of  divine 
things  but  the  form. 

To  divert  my  mind  as  much  as  possible,  I  de- 
voted my  leisure  time  to  literary  pursuits,  at- 
tending school  part  of  that  time,  and  studying 
drawing  and  music  the  rest.  In  these  pursuits 
I  was  assisted  by  my  comrade,  Henry  Apple,  a 
German,  in  the  middle  age  of  life,  and  of  no 
o,  Hnary  talents.  His  regard  for  me  was  strong 
and  ardent  ;  his  advice  that  of  a  father  ;  indeed 
he  delighted  to  speak  of  me  as  his  son.  To 
him,  I  related  my  parentage,  travels,  &c.,  upon 
which  he  counselled  me  to  desert  the  first  op- 
portunity, alledging  that  if  I  remained  in  the 
army,  1  could  expect  nothing  but  misery  and 
poverty  all  my  days  ;  indeed,  we  should  have 
deserted  together,  had  it  not  been  that  the  time 
for  which  he  enlisted  was  nearly  expired. 

But  notwithstanding  his  advice,  I  endured 
my  troubles  some  time  longer,  hoping  to  be 
able  to  purchase  my  discharge.  To  obtain  it 
by  money,  required  twenty  pounds  sterling, 
while  my  pay  amounted  to  but  one  shilling  and 
one  pence  per  day,  out  of  which  I  had  to  pur- 
chase several  articles  of  wearing  apparel,  as 
also  of  consumption.  To  further  my  design,  I 
gave  up  my  allowance  of  grog,  prefering  to 
receive  its  value  in  money.     But  with  all  my 


LIFE   OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


99 


mind 
upport 
ess  of 
y  com- 
iras,  as 
divine 

5, 1  de- 
its,  at- 
udying 
ursuits 
pple,  a 

of  no 

strong 

indeed 

1.     To 

,  upon 
rst  op- 
in  the 
and 
have 
le  time 


T 


ndured 
to  be 
tain  it 
erling, 
ng  and 
to  pur- 
irel,  as 
sign,  I 
ing  to 
all  mv 


I 


efforts  I  could  save  but  six  shillings  per  month, 
at  which  rate,  it  would  have  taken  six  years, 
nearly,  to  accomplish  my  aim.  But  I  soon 
found  that  such  a  strict  course  of  living  would 
debar  me  of  the  means  of  attending  to  my  lit- 
erary pursuits, and  to  spare  a  pittance  for  them,I 
saw  that  it  would  require  eleven  or  twelve  years 
to  put  me  in  possession  of  the  required  sum,  as 
also  that  it  was  involved  with  events  the  most 
difficult  to  be  surmounted,  and  accordingly,  I 
laid  aside  my  plan  as  impracticable. 

My  next  aim  was  to  procure  admission  into 
the  band  of  musicians,  thinking  that  my  situa- 
tion would  be  more  comfortable.  I  according- 
ly persevered  in  my  musical  studies,  hoping  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  officers,  when  I  was 
sent  for  by  Capt.  Pierce,  an  officer  of  the  com- 
pany, to  act  as  his  servant,  a  situation  which 
seemed  to  promise  an  amelioration  of  my  troub- 
les. But  I  soon  found,  that  let  me  be  placed 
where  I  would,  I  had  to  lead  a  contemptible 
and  miserable  soldier's  life.  My  situation  was 
rendered  very  unpleasant  on  account  of  many 
very  arduous  tasks  assigned  me  ;  as  also  from 
being  broke  of  my  rest  ;  for  I  had  generally  to 
await  the  return  of  my  master  from  his  mid- 
night  revels,who  would  in  turn  have  much  com- 
pany, and  that  painfully  disgusting,  for  they 
would  gamble  and  carouse  like  bedlamites,  as  if 
totally  regardless  of  a  state  of  future  retribu- 
tion. The  Captain  possessed  a  taste  that  led 
him  to  Sparc  no  pains  nor  expense  to  obtain  any 
pleasure  he  delighted  in.     He  required  a  strict 


100 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


!!     ! 


attention  to  be  paid  to  all  his  injunctions,  which 
I  obeyed  with  promptitude  and  despatch,  in  ev- 
ery respect,  if  1  except  that  I  made  but  an  in- 
different cook.  However,  as  he  messed  in  com- 
mon with  the  other  officers,  I  had  but  little  to  do 
in  this  respect  but  to  prepare  his  breakfast  reg- 
ularly, and  occasionally,  supper  for  his  guests. 
One  day  he  gave  me  directions  for  cooking  a 
beePs  tongue,  which  was  to  answer  for  hia 
breakfast  the  next  morning.  I  accordingly  fol- 
lowed his  orders,  but  unluckily,  after  it  was 
put  into  the  oven,  from  some  cause  or  other,  I 
forgot  it  until  the  next  morning,  when,  painful 
to  relate,  it  was  baked  almost  to  a  cinder,  on 
account  of  the  large  fire  kept  in  the  stove  dur- 
ing the  night.  Afraid  of  exciting  his  anger  by 
not  placing  it  upon  the  table,  I  cut  off  all  the 
burnt  part,  until  it  was  so  diminished  in  size 
that  I  felt  ashamed  to  behold  it.  However, 
with  much  fear  and  anxiety,  I  placed  it  on  the 
table,  and  then  retired  to  wait  the  motions  of 
its  astonished  and  disappointed  consumer,  who 
eyed  it  with  apparent  solicitude,  as  if  to  dis- 
cover the  nature  of  the  unshapely  dish  I  had 
placed  before  him.  He  then  applied  to  me  for 
an  account  of  the  article,  and  such  were  my 
fears,  that  I  gave  but  a  disconnected  and  unsat- 
isfactory detail  of  my  act  of  harsh  cooking  ; 
seeing  my  confusion,  and  the  sorrow  it  occa- 
sioned, he  passed  it  over  with  a  gentle  repri- 
mand. 

On  another  occasion,  I  met  with  a  misfortune 
somewhat  similar.     We  expected  a  large  com- 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


101 


hich 
lev- 
1  in- 
com- 
to  do 

reg- 
iiests. 
ing  a 
►r  his 
ly  fol- 
t  was 
her,  I 
)ainrul 
ler,  on 
e  dur- 
ger  by 
lall  the 
In  size 
wever, 
on  the 
ions  of 

r,  who 

0  dis- 

1  had 
me  for 

ere  my 
1  unsat- 
oohing  ; 
it  occa- 
repri- 

sfortune 
re  com- 


pany of  guests  to  supper,  for  whose  entertain- 
ment the  messmaster  prepared  a  sumptuous  re- 
past.    The  hour  arrived,  when  my  helpmate 
and  I  spread  the  rich  bounties  provided  for  the 
occasion  ;  among  many  other  things  was  two 
richly  dressed  fowls,which  served  greatly  to  or- 
nament the  table.    We  happened  to  be  both  ab- 
sent for  a  moment,  and  upon  returning,  discov- 
ered that  one  of  the  fowls  was  missing.     We 
were  much  surprised,  and  gazed  on  each  other 
with  much  concern,  wondering  by  whom,  and 
how  in  so  short  a  time  it  could  have  been  re- 
moved.    Upon  clos  e  examination  it  appeared 
to  have  been  dragged  off  the  table,  and  upon 
looking  under  the  stove,  we  found  it  in  posses- 
sion of  a  huge  cat,  who  was  very  deliberately 
making  a  supper  of  the  mutilated  fowl,  which 
we  soon  rescued  from  her  paws,  and  in  no  very 
gentle  manner,  bade  her  finish  her  supper  else- 
where.    Fearing  to  throw  it   away,  and  thus 
incur   censure,  and  perhaps  punishment,  we 
were  driven  to  the  alternative  of  cleaning  and 
placing  it  on  the  table,  in  the  best  manner  pos- 
sible, taking  care  to  press  well  together  every 
part  that  was  injured.     Fortunately  for  us  they 
were  not  touched,  and  thus  the  affair  passed 
off  undiscovered.     I  do  not  state  these  facts  as 
if  in  themselves  they  are  worthy  of  notice,  but 
merely  to  illustrate  the   effects  produced  by 
harsh,  despotic  treatment,  and  that  slavish  fear 
which  is  its  legitimate  result  ;    a  fear  which  is 
evidence  direct  of  the  depraved  condition  of 
man,  for  were  he  upwright,  it  neither  would  be 
10 


102 


LIFK  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


'i 


1}  \ 


exacted  or  yielded.  Wherever  it  exists  it 
cramps  the  energies,  paralyzes  the  powers  of 
the  soul,  and  blasts  the  principles  of  peace  and 
liberty  ;  and  yet,  strange  infatuation  !  men  of- 
ten mistake  it,  I  mean  when  applied  to  their 
Creator,for  that  filial  fear  required  by  Him  from 
His  creatures,  and  imagine  that  dread,  horror, 
and  trembling  at  the  thought  of  his  sacred 
name,  constitutes  the  duty  of  man.  How  can 
these  things  be  ?  How  can  we  love  that  which 
we  imagine  militates  against  our  joys,  and 
threatens  to  crush  us  to  dust  ?  Can  such  be 
the  duty  inculcated  in  the  inspired  writings  ? 
Let  the  reader  consult  on  this  point,  Heb.  xii. 
28,  Eccl.  xii.  13,  Prov.  iii.  7,  and  viii.  xiii,and 
ix.  10,  Ps.  cxi.  10,  Cor.  vii.  1,  &c.  &c. 

Circumstances  like  the  above,  tended  to  keep 
my  mind  in  a  continued  state  of  unhappy  ex- 
citement and  slavish  fear  ;  and  although  I  la- 
bored with  the  utmost  diligence  to  obey  the 
commands  of  my  master,  their  rigidity  were  by 
no  means  relaxed,  nor  his  aristocratic  haughti- 
ness diminished.  Added  to  this,  I  received  no 
compensation  for  my  services  besides  my  pay 
and  rations  as  a  soldier,  which  I  received  from 
the  barracks,  so  that  my  present  situation  was 
in  reality  no  way  superior  to  the  former.  In 
my  present  condition,  I  saw  little  probability 
of  escaping  from  their  cruel  bondage,  and  re- 
flecting upon  my  past  delightful  enjoyments, 
and  anxious  to  get  iree  from  the  slavery  of  tyr- 
annical oppressors,that  I  might  again  enjoy  the 
endearing   comforts    of  a   social  and   peaceful 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


103 


its  it 
rs  of 
3  and 
;nof- 

their 

from 
orror, 
acred 
N  can 
Mrhich 
y  and 
ch  be 
ings  ? 
b.  xii. 
iii,and 

okeep 
U  ex- 
I   la- 
the 
ere  by 
ughti- 
ved  no 
pay 
from 
on  was 
jr.     In 
)ability 
and  re- 
ments, 
oftyr- 
ijoy  the 
eaceful 


jy 


y 


I 


life,  and  become  useful  to  myself  and  friends, 
I  could  no  longer  resist  the  impetuous  force  of 
my  feelings  ;  but  resolved  forthwith  to  make  my 
escape. 

The  season  of  the  year,  (it  was  the  month  of 
February)  and  the  vast  amount  of  travel  to  the 
United  States,  conspired  to  raise  my  hopes,and 
cheer  me  with  the  prospect  of  obtaining  a  con- 
veyance by  some  one  of  the  numerous  car- 
riages engaged  in  the  pursuits  of  commerce. 
Upon  afler  consideration,  however,  I  judged  it 
best  not  to  trust  my  fate  in  the  hands  of  any 
man,  especially  as  it  required  a  generosity  not 
likely  to  be  found  among  those  persons  to  whom 
I  allude. 

About  this  time  my  comrade,  Henry  Apple, 
received  his  discharge  ;  which  fact  but  increas- 
ed my  disaffection,  inflamed  my  desires,  and 
produced  a  stronger  resolution  to  attempt  my 
escape  as  soon  as  possible.  Before  I  proceed 
Co  relate  the  means  I  resorted  to,  I  will  just 
observe,  that  while  nothing  could  justify  me  in 
their  adoption,  an  excuse  can  be  found  in  my 
youth,  inexperience y  and  misery  ;  for  I  feel  con- 
fident, that  had  not  my  sufferings  been  extreme, 
I  never  should  have  been  persuaded  to  adopt  a 
course  so  criminal.  But,  to  proceed  :  my  plan 
was  to  provide  myself  with  the  dress  of  a  civill 
ian  from  the  Captain's  wardrobe,  and  with  a 
horse  belonging  to  a  Lieut.  Colonel  Rumpley, 
who  resided  under  the  same  roof  with  the  Cap- 
tain ;  and  whose  horse  was  the  only  one  I 
could  have  access  to^  of  the  two  officers,  and 


104 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGUTON. 


V' 


r   t 


l!  l! 


which  I  intended,  should  I  effect  my  escape,  to 
leave  at  some  convenient  place  near  the  Amer- 
ican line,  and  inform  the  Colonel  by  letter, 
where  he  might  find  him."^  In  taking  this  course, 
which  in  fact  was  the  only  one  I  could  in  safety 
adopt,  I  was  in  pressing  need  of  money  to  de- 
fray  my  expenses  ;  and  not  being  able  to  de- 
mand any  of  my  pay  in  consequence  of  being 
obliged  to  buy  several  articles  of  winter  cloth- 
ing, by  which  I  was  deeply  involved  in  debt, 
and  fearing  my  entire  destitution  would  expose 
me  to  the  suspicion  of  those  men  among  whom 
I  travelled,  I  resolved  to  purloin  a  sum  from 
one  of  the  officers  sufficient  to  meet  the  wants 
my  peculiar  situation  demanded.  I  intended 
also  to  arm  myself  with  a  loaded  pistol^  being 

*  The  example  of  many  of  my  fellow  soldiers  who  had  adop- 
ted similar  measures  to  effect  their  liberty,  and  who  had  escap- 
ed detection,  was  a  powerful  stimulous  to  urge  me  on  to  my  un- 
dertaking ;  and,  indeed,  I  may  say  it  was  through  the  success 
of  tlieir  attempts,  that  I  received  encouragement,  and  was  led 
to  do  as  I  did.  One  circumstance  I  will  here  mention.  Two 
of  my  comrades,  who  were  great  intimates  together,  and  who 
were  botli  officers*  servants,  became  po  dissatisfied  witk  a  fol- 
dier*0  life  tliat  they  resolved  to  make  tlieir  escape  in  company 
with  each  other,  when  the  first  opix>rtnnity  should  present. 
When  the  night  came  Uiat  gave  them  the  desired  opportunity, 
one  X)f  them,  dressed  himself  in  an  officer's  full  uniform,  be- 
longing to  tlie  one  with  whom  he  was  living;  took  also  his  com- 
miMion,  in  order  tlint  they  might  eiwape  with  greater  safety. 
His  companion  drecsed  hims#lf  in  a  s(;rvants  habit,  and  attended 
btm  in  tliat  capacity  ;  after  thus  preparing  themselves  Uiey 
took  a  horse  and  sleigh  and  proceeded  with  all  possible  haste  ; 
alleging,  where  tlu>y  had  occasion  to  slop,  that  they  were  in 
punuit  of  deserters.  Tims  they  both  mude  their  succesfiil 
Mcspe. 


J 


v 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


105 


determined,  in  case  I  should  be  overtaken  by 
pursuers,  not  to  be  taken  alive.^ 

The  day  at  length  arrived  when  I  was  to  ex- 
ecute my  project,  which,  if  successful,  was  to 
free  me  from  my  troubles,  and  confer  upon  me 
the  blessinffs  of  liberty  ;  but  if  detected  would 
plunge  me  into  a  worse  situation,  and  a  deeper 
misery.  Early  in  the  evening  the  Captain  and 
Colonel  R.  went  in  company  to  partake  of  the 
pleasures  of  a  splendid  ball,  and  having  waited 
until  the  tattoo  sounded,  which  called  every 
soldier  to  the  barracks,  I  began  to  make  prep- 
aration for  my  exit.  After  carrying  my  plan 
into  effect,  so  far  as  to  encourage  me  with  suc- 
cess, and  while  in  the  very  act  of  making  the 
most  important  preparations,  I  was  suddenly 
interrupted  by  Colonel  R's.  servant,  who  com- 
ing near  to  me,  spoke  to  me  as  if  he  suspected 
my  design.  But  fearing  I  should  take  the 
alarm,  he  coaxingly  requested  me  to  go  with 
him  into  the  servant's  room,  where  no  doubt  he 
meant  to  have  secured  me,  as  another  servant 
was  there  who  would  probably  have  readily  as- 
sisted him  to  detect  me.  But  knowing  he  must 
have  discovered  my  design,  and  fearing  he  was 
only  laying  a  trap  to  catch  me,  I  made  him  an 
indifferent  reply  ;   but  promised  him  I  would 

*  I  pkced  all  mv  hopes  of  deliverance  upon  my  horse  and  a 
Hngle  piitol ;  which  latter  I  intended  to  have  well  loaded 
with  ballff,  and  not  to  be  taken  without  firinff  through  the  first 
man  that  should  attempt  to  apprehend  me.  I  should  have  pro< 
vided  myself  with  anotlier  pistol,  but  for  fear  of  exciting  suspi- 
cion of  my  design  I  was  obliged  to  desist. 
10* 


.4^3 


<mmm 


106 


LIFK    or    \V.    IJ.    LK^UTON. 


return  in  a  few  minutes.  Upon  thin,  \vc  parted, 
and  b/  watching  the  movements  of  the  servant, 
I  was  fearfully  alarmed  of  the  fact  that  he  was 
going,  with  all  haste,  to  report  me  as  a  deserter. 
•^10  indeed,  was  the  decisive  moment  ;  mid  1 
felt  it  ;  and  although  I  had  not  accomplished 
my  purpose  of  changing  clothes  from  the  ward- 
robe, nor  secured  an  outer  garment.*  I  sprung 
out  of  the  house  into  the  stable^  saddled  the 
horse,  mounted  him,  and  galloping  upon  the 
full  speed,  1  passed  in  fi  out  of  the  barracks  by 
the  guard,  the  sentinels  of  which  were  on  their 
posts,  and  in  a  few  moments,  left  my  master 
and  the  troops,  far  in  the  rear.  Soon,  however, 
I  began  to  feel  the  effects  of  the  cold  ;  even 
before  I  had  crossed  the  St.  Lawre-.icc,  which 
distance  was  about  nine  miles  on  the  ice,  I 
thought  I  should  have  perished  ;  my  dress  be- 
ing altogether  imfit  for  my  circumstances,  being 
composed  of  a  pair  of  woolen  regimental  pau- 
taloons,  woolen  vest,  a  light  fustian  jacket,  hat, 
and  a  light  pair  of  calfskin  shoes.  My  suiTei- 
ings  increased  beyond  description  ;  I  became 
chilled  almost  to  death,  and  those  parts  of  my 
body  most  exposed,  became  frozen  and  stiff  in 
spite  of  all  my  exertions.     Sometimes  I  would 

*  Notwithstanding  I  had  not  accomplished  my  design,  yet  I 
Iiad  carried  my  plan  too  far  to  be  desisted  from  1  had  evi' 
dently  given  the  most  deci^sive  proof  of  my  intention.  To  have 
remained  without  making  any  turiher  exertion  would  soon  have 
brought  mc  into  confinement,  and  to  the  dreadful  torture  of  tlie 
whip,  or  some  other  severe  punishment.  Therefore,  widiout 
the  least  hesitancy,  I  resolved  to  try  my  escape  forthwith,  per- 
chance I  might  succeed  in  gaining  my  liberty  from  a  life  of 
such  insufferable  tyranny  ! 


iricd, 
vant, 
3  was 
crtcr. 
and  1 
lisheil 
ward- 
prung 
A  the 
>n  the 
^>ks  by 
1  their 
uaster 
A' ever, 
,   even 
which 
ice,  I 
?ss  be- 
,  being 
1   p  un- 
it, hat, 
suiTci- 
ecame 
of  iny 
titr  ill 
would 

Lii,  yet  I 

Tliad  evi- 

ITo  havii 

loon  hiivo 

re  of  tlie 

without 

[ith,  per- 

a  life  of 


■MiiMBBMSiHapMlBlil 


;* 


'.'t 


l-.l 


(:' 


.. 

1 

i 

\' 

'.     : 

i 

> 

LIFE  OB'  W.  B-  LIGHTOrr. 


107 


put  my  hands  (for  I  had  no  mittens)  between 
the  saddle  and  the  horse's  back,  and  my  feet 
close  to  his  sides  ;  at  other  times  I  took  to  my 
feet  and  run  ;  but  all  was  in  vain.  I  actually 
thought  I  should  freeze  to  death  :  my  hands^ 
feet,  and  ears  were  past  all  feeling,  and  not- 
withstanding I  thrashed  and  rubbed  the  affect- 
ed parts,  they  still  grew  worse,  and  worse,  and 
glad  indeed,  should  I  have  been  to  have  taken 
shelter  for  the  night ;  but  so  great  was  my  fear 
of  detection,  that  I  dared  not  hazard  myself  by 
requesting  hospitality.  At  length  I  lost  my 
way,  and  coming  to  a  house,  through  the  win- 
dow of  which  I  discovered  a  brisk  fire,  which 
to  me,  was  a  sight  peculiarly  grateful,  I  stop- 
ped my  horse,  to  consult  with  myself,  with  re- 
gard to  the  propriety  of  going  in  to  warm  me, 
and  secure  some  kind  of  an  outer  garment,  as  I 
was  entirely  destitute  ;  at  the  same  time,  I 
eyed  sharply  the  inside  of  the  cottage,  through 
the  window,  as  I  stood  close  to  it,  to  see  if  all 
was  peaceful  and  quiet,  which  I  found  to  be  so; 
upon  which,  I  saluted  it  with  a  loud  halloo,  at 
the  same  time  putting  my  horse  in  a  position 
ready  for  a  gallop,  should  I  see  any  cause  for  ex- 
citement; when,observing  two  men  approach  the 
door,  dressed  in  their  daily  habit,  and  to  all  ap- 
pearance, armed  with  muskets,  my  fears  became 
alarmed,  and  without  delaying  one  moment,  I 
rode  off  immediately  upon  the  full  speed.'* 

*  I  remark  that  my  feara  were  not  excited  from  any  thoughts 
of  pursuers,  but  the  fact  that  the  men  might  be  some  of  those 
unfeeling  characters,  who  were  constantly  upon  the  bokout  for 
deserters . 


iMMWMi* 


Hi 


AH 


108 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


.'ii 


filled  with 


and  fear. 


was  now  niied  witn  excitement,  ana  tear,  in 
consequence  of  which,  I  rode  my  horse  hard, 
until  with  fatigue  and  fasting,  (for  he  had  noth- 
ing to  eat  all  night)  he  became  so  jaded  that  it 
was  with  much  difficulty  I  could  force  him  out 
of  a  walk.     At  length  day-light   appeared  and 
ended  the  most  painful  night  I  ever  experien- 
ced, before  or  since .     Meeting  with  an  individ- 
ual, I  interrogated  him  as  to  the  place  in  which 
we  were  ;  when  he   informed  me  I  was  forty 
miles  from  Montreal,  and  about  an  equal  dis- 
tance from  the  borders  of  the  United  States. 
The  assurance  that  I  was  so  far  from  the  Regi- 
ment, and  in  a  bye-way  too,  encouraged  me  to 
inquire  for  refreshment,  for  I  felt  in  much  need 
of  it :  and  indeed,  had  I  not  submitted  to  put  up 
some   where,   I  verily  believe,    before    many 
hours,  I  should  have   perished  on  the  road. 
Accordingly  I  rode  up  to  a  tavern,  delivered 
my  horse  to  the  ostler,  ordering  him  to  take  the 
best  possible  care  of  him,  and  retired  to  the 
house,  though  with  much  difficulty,  on  account 
of  the  stiffness  of  my  limbs,  and  the  numbness 
of  all  my  physical  powers.     Seating  myself  by 
the  fire,  I  fell  into  a  sound  sleep,  from  which  I 
was  awakened  by  the  intense  pain  of  which  I 
became  the  subject,  as  my  frozen  extremities 
were  operated  upon  by  the  fire.     Upon  remov- 
ing my  shoes,  my  feet  presented  a  piteous  ap- 
pearance, being  almost  entirely  covered  with 
blisters,  so  that  I  could  not  place  them  upon 
the  ground  without  screaming. 

The  family  now  began  to  gather  round  me, 


■Si 


'<      I 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


109 


fewr,  in 

se  hard, 

id  noth- 

d  that  it 

him  out 

red  and 

sperien- 

individ- 

n  which 

as  forty 

ual  dis- 

States. 

e  Regi- 

d  me  to 

ch  need 

)  put  up 

>    many 

e  road. 

livered 

ake  the 

to  the 

ccount 

bness 

elf  by 

hichi 

hichi 

mities 

•emov- 

»us  ap- 

with 

upon 

id  me^ 


not  to  administer  to  my  necessities,  but  merely 
to  gratify  an  ignoble  curiosity,  I  say  ignoble, 
because  it  had  no  other  end  than  to  rid  them- 
selves of  a  troublesome  burden,  as  they  feared, 
from  my  appearance,  I  might  become.  They 
began  by  expressing  their  surprise  at  my 
unseasonable  dress,  and  that  I  should  travel  in 
the  night,  and  so  far,  as  from  my  appearance 
they  judged  I  had.  To  this,  I  answered  in  the 
best  way  possible  to  prevent  suspicion,  but  in 
vain ;  the  landlord  doubted  my  veracity,  and 
sent  for  a  number  of  gentlemen  belonging  to 
the  neighborhood,  who  on  their  arrival,  exam- 
ined me  very  closely.  By  this  time,  my  pain 
had  so  increased  that  I  became  almost  insensi- 
ble ;  so  much  so,  that  my  answers  became  con- 
fused, and  upon  being  asked  by  one  of  them 
from  whence  I  came,  I  thoughtlessly  replied, 
from  Montreal :  whereupon  they  began  to  sus- 
pect me  to  be  a  deserter.  Upon  this,  I  effect- 
ually roused  myself  from  my  stupor,  and  plead 
my  case  so  ably  that  the  suspicions  of  most  of 
them  were  lulled,  and  they  retired,  expressing 
their  satisfaction  at  my  story,  and  their  belief 
of  my  innocence.  But  the  avaricious  and  un- 
feeling landlord  was  still  dissatisfied,  and  asked 
me  if  I  was  willing  to  go  back  with  him  so  far 
as  St.  John's,  to  see  if  there  was  any  inquiry, 
or  stir  about  me.  To  prevent  any  further  sus- 
picion in  his  mind,  I  told  him  I  was  perfectly 
willing,  (though  to  the  contrary,  I  was  very  «m- 
willingy  but  I  did  so  that  he  might  think  I  tta$ 
innocent)  provided  he  would  bring  me  back  a^ 


>AI 


i!       I 


!j: 


t 


110        LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 

ter  being  satisfied  with  my  innocence.     He 

{»romi9ed  he  would,  though  1  felt  that  there  was 
ittle  hope  of  my  avoiding  detection,  as  a  com- 
pany belonging  to  my  regiment  were  stationed 
at  that  place,  and  would  immediately,  on  seeing 
mc,  recognize  me  as  one  of  the  regiment. 
Reader,  can  you  conceive  my  feelings  ?  To  do 
it  you  must  place  yourself  in  my  situation. 
Suppose  yourself  a  stranger,  poor  and  destitute, 
your  limbs  all  sore  and  blistered,  a  deserter 
from  the  army,  in  the  hands  of  cruel,  hard- 
hearted men,  about  to  take  you  back  to  place 
you  in  the  hands  of  those  who  have  no  mercy 
upon  their  victims,  and  exposed  to  the  cruel 
punishment  of  whipping,  a  punishment  worse 
than  death  :  and  perhaps  you  can  form  some 
idea  of  my  feelings. 

Before  I  proceed  farther,  I  will  just  stop  to 
uncover  the  heart  of  the  landlord,  and  show 
the  principle  lurking  there,  which  induced  him 
to  betray  me.  He  believed  me  to  be  a  desert- 
er, and  knew  that  could  he  prove  the  fact,  and 
lodge  me  in  the  hands  of  the  regiment,  he 
should  receive  thirty  dollars^  as  a  reward  of  his 
cruelty,  for  my  apprehension.  For  this  sum 
was  he  willing  to  expose  me  to  the  most  igno- 
minious of  all  punishments.  What  will  not 
some  men  do  for  the  sake  of  money  ?  With  some 
the  value  of  human  life  is  insignificant  com- 
pared with  it.  "O  how  deceitful,  how  deeply 
damning  is  the  love  of  money  !  Well  might 
the  heathen  exclaim,  while  contemplating  the 
grave  of  one  who  was  murdered  for  his  wealth. 


t 


.1 


I 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


Ill 


\c.     He 

lere  was 
3  a  com- 
;tationed 
n  seeing 
egiment. 
?  To  do 
situation, 
iestitute, 

deserter 
el,  hard- 

to  place 
10  mercy 
the  cruel 
jnt  worse 
brm  Sonne 

ist  stop  to 
and   show 
luced  him 
a  desert- 
lact,  and 
ment,  he 
ard  of  his 
this  sum 
lost  ig  no- 
will   not 
Vith  some 
fant  com- 
)w  deeply 
[ell  might 
hating  the 
lis  wealth. 


■i 


O !  cursed  lust  of  gold  !  what  wilt  thou  not  in- 
duce the  human  heart  to  perpetrate  ?  "  Judas 
is  deservedly  considered  as  one  of  the  most  in* 
famous  of  men,  his  conduct  base  beyond  de- 
scription, and  his  motives  vile.  But  alas  !  how 
many  who  censure  his  act,  imitate  him  in  their 
lives  !  How  many  sell  their  souls  for  a  less 
sum  !  Ho  ye  Judas%  read  your  doom  I  learn 
your  danger  when  you  hear  the  Apostle  telling 
you  from  Grod  that  "  no  unrighteous  man,  nor 
covetous,  shall  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  !" 
From  so  great  a  curse  may  God  save  every 
money4ovingy  honor^huntingy  pleasure'taJcingy 
thoughtless,  goddess  man  ! 

But  to  proceed  with  my  narrative  :  after  par- 
taking of  some  refreshment,  the  landlord  pro- 
ceeded to  convey  me  to  St.  Johns,  at  which 
place  we  arrived  about  two  o'clock  P.  M.  and 
was  conducted  to  an  inn,  where  I  was  put  un- 
der the  safe-keeping  of  the  landlord,  at  that 
place,  until  inquiry  was  made  respecting  me. 
But  I  had  not  been  there  long  before  informa- 
tion was  obtained  that  I  was  a  deserter,  and 
that  despatches  to  different  parts  of  the  country 
were  in  pursuit  of  me.  This  news  highly  grat- 
ified my  captor,  who  very  speedily  communi- 
cated the  fact  of  my  detention  to  the  officers  of 
the  company,  stationed  there,  who  immediately 
sent  a  file  of  soldiers  to  conduct  me  to  the 
guard-house,  where  I  was  placed  under  close 
confinement.  The  soldiers  exhibited  much 
kindness  towards  me^  which  kindness  was  pe- 
culiarlv  seasonable,  as  1  was  in  such  a  situa- 


.i<Wv»../«»_.„. 


l\'      I 


112 


lion, 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


y  reason  of  being  frozen,  that  I  was  not 
able  to  feed  myself  without  assistance.  The 
Lieutenant,  who  was  commander  of  the  com- 
pany, visited  me  during  this  season  of  wretch- 
edness ;  his  aspect  was  mild,  his  language  kind 
and  savoring  of  pity  ;  upon  retiring,  he  sent 
me  a  portion  of  food  from  his  own  table,  which 
supply  came  very  opportunely  for  the  relief  of 
my  crying  wants.  In  short,  the  treatment  I 
experienced  exceeded  all  my  expectations,  and 
I  thought  with  such  officers,  even  a  soldier's 
life  might  be  tolerable,  and  that  my  case  would 
not  be  so  bad,  had  I  such  men  to  pass  sentence 
upon  me  for  the  crime  I  had  so  unfortunately 
committed.  As  it  was,  my  case  was  to  be  pla- 
ced in  the  hands  of  men  of  hard-hearts,  and 
tyrannic  principles;  men  who  regarded  no  pun- 
ishment too  severe  for  those  who  had  violated 
their  lordly  commands.  At  night  the  soldiers 
spread  their  great  coats  for  me  upon  the  floor, 
and  the  before-mentioned  officer,  sent  me  some 
articles  of  covering,  with  which  I  strove  to 
compose  my  weary  body,  while  my  no  less 
wearied  mind  was  torn  on  the  fearful  rack  of 
gloomy  expectation. 

. ^Thu8 

Brooding  o'er  sorrow's  fount,  silent 

I  gazed  upon  tiie  gloomy  past  : 

Till  worn  with  watching,  I  sought  the  aid 

Of  gentle  sleep.     I  slept,  and  felt  refreshed. 

The  morning's  dawn  witnessed  preparations 
for  my  conveyance  back  to  Montreal,  and  afl^^r 
partaking  of  some  bread  and  tea,  which  consti- 
tuted my  breakfast,  orders  were  sent  me  to  pre- 


V 


.V  ".aiftliM'-'MMii-i. 


^pgg 


MHMII 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


113 


nras  not 
.     The 

e  com- 
wretch- 
ige  kind 
be  sent 
J,  which 
elief  of 
itment  I 
jns,  and 
soldier's 
)e  would 
sentence 
tunately 
3  be  pla- 
irts,   and 
no  pun- 
violated 
soldiers 
he  floor, 
le  some 
itrove  to 
no  less 
rack  of 


larations 
md  afl^r 
consti- 
[e  to  pre- 


ptre  mxielf  for  my  journey .     Having  wrapped 
•ome  raga  round  my  feet  and  drawn  on  some 
old  stocking  legs,  which  served  as  shoes,  and 
obtained  the  loan  of  a  soldier's  great  coat,  I 
stood  reddy,  with  my  shoes  in  my  hand.  About 
eight  o'clock,   I  was   marched  to  the   stage 
house,  between  a  file  of  guard,  armed  with 
drawn  swords,  which  walk,  although  only  a  few 
rods,  occasioned  me  a  great  deal  of  pain,  as 
my  feet  were  so  extremely  sore.     The  guard, 
and  myself  were  soon  seated  in  the  stage,  when 
we  proceeded  to  Montreal ;   the  journey  of 
which,  was  attended  with  the  most  exquisite 
pain,  in  consequence  of  the  cold  striking  to  all 
my  frozen  parts.     My  feelings  were  indeed  not 
less  painful  as  we  approached  the  place  of  our 
destination,  from  the  fact  that  it  was  to  be  the 
scene  of  my  punishment,  and  which  was  in  ef- 
fect no  better  than  barbarism,  or  the  bloody 
inquisition.     Arriving  at  Montreal,  and  being 
iinable  to  walk,  they  placed  me  upon  a  lumber 
sled  to  convey  me  from  the  place  where  we  left 
the  stage  to  the  barracks,  about  a  mile  in  dis- 
tance.   At  the  barracks  gate  one  of  my  peculiar 
friends  stood  sentinel,  who  appeared  as  if  thun- 
derstruck at  witnessing  my  situation  ;  he  dared 
not  speak,  but  exhibited  his  emotion  by  turning 
ghastly  pale.     At  length  I  was  placed  in  the 
guard-room,  as  a  prisoner,  under  strong  guard, 
where  I  was  soon  visited  by  the  adjutant,  who 
expressed  his  surprise  at  finding  me  a  prisoner. 
He  informed  me  my  guilt  was  of  no  ordinary 
kind  ;  that  it  was  unpardonable  ;  that  standing 


114 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


and 


charged  with  desertion   un^   oi,^»i»t.^, 
highly  probable  death  would  be  my  punishment. 

My  case  was  soon  reported  to  the  command* 
ing  officer,  (Colonel  Andrews)  who  made  out 
my  commitment,  and  sent  orders  for  my  con* 
veyance  to  the'  main  guardy  whither  I  was 
marched,  hand-cuffed,  guarded  by  a  strong 
detachment,  with  drawn  swords^  and  surroun- 
ded by  many  of  my  anxious  comrades,  whom 
curiosity  or  sympathy  had  drawn  together 
to  witness  my  rertioval.  These  circumstan- 
ces increased  my  fears,  as  I  knew  that  none 
hut  the  worst  of  characters  were  consigned  to 
this  wretched  place  :  it  therefore  appeared  to 
me  as  my  death  warrant. 

My  new  habitation  was  again  the  scene  of 
increased  wretchedness  :  here  with  my  limbs 
all  sore,  without  a  friend,  without  a  fire,  with- 
out hope,  I  was  left  in  dreary  solitude  to  await 
my  trial.  Hard  indeed  was  my  lot !  miserable 
my  situation  ?  How  often  did  I  sigh  over  my 
past  folly,  while  restless,  I  turned  over  my  chaf- 
ed and  frozen  limbs  to  seek  momentary  respite 
from  my  cruel  sufferings,  on  the  hard  floor  of 
my  prison,  for  bed  I  had  none. 

Providence,  however,  raised  up  a  friend^  by 
whose  intercession  my  troubles  were  in  a  meas- 
ure mitigated :  that  friend  was  Lady  Fitzgerald, 
who,  hearing  of  my  situation,  procured  the  re- 
moval of  my  handcuffs,  and  permission  for  me 
to  sleep  in  the  guard  room,  as  also  to  warm 
myself  occasionally  at  the  fire,  during  the  day. 
The  Docter  also  paid  me  a  visit,  and  after  ex- 


V 


V 

¥' 


^iaf^~?*-VSWf*4=«aWHWiB(ev» 


LIFC  Ol'"  W.  n.  LIGIITON. 


115 


)) 


it 


lishment. 
ornmand* 
made  out 


.7 


con- 
r  I    waB 

a  strong 
surroun- 
ds, whom 
together 
cumstan* 
that  none 
igned  to 
leared  to 

scene  of 
ny  limbs 
re,  with- 

to  await 
liserabla 
over  my 
ny  chaf- 
f  respite 

floor  of 

iendy  by 
a  meas- 
Kgerald, 
the  re- 
for  me 
warm 
he  day. 
fler  ex- 


amining  my  wounds,  lefl  me  and  sent  his  ser- 
vant to  dress  them,  from  whose  miserable  and 
bungling  performance,  I  experienced  the  most 
ftctite  suffering  with  but  little  advantage.  How- 
ever I  was  obliged  to  endure  his  operations, 
though  he  treated  me  more  like  a  brute  than  a 
man. 

I  was  next  visited  by  Captain  Pierce,  my  of- 
fended master,whose  very  countenance  bespoke 
an  angry  soul.  He  saluted  me  with  the  most 
impious  threats,  and  uttered  such  awful  impre- 
cations, that  had  they  been  brought  upon  me 
would  have  placed  me  iiA  the  lowest  abyss  of 
hell  but  I  pleased  myself  with  the  thought  that 
they  were  but  noisy  breath.  He  said  he  had 
not  the  least  pity  for  me,  and  that  no  mercy 
should  be  shown  me,  and  with  a  tremendous 
oath  declared  I  should  sufl^er  deathy  that  my 
suffering  might  operate  as  a  warning  to  others. 
He  observed  farther  that  had  he  overtaken  me 
on  the  night  of  my  desertion^  he  would  have 
afiot  me  dead  upon  the  spot,  O,  what  may  not 
such  tyrannic  monsters  expect  when  God  comes 
to  judgment ! 

Jpr<fv4  itfranU  tremble  !  for  a  weight  of  woe 

Hangs  in  black  columns  of  tremendous  ire 

p*er  yoiur  devoted  souls.  Black,  black  with  dismal  wrath 

It  spreads  i(s  muricy  gloom  around  youf  heads 

(Boon,  soon  to  burst.    Then  horrible  confusion  ? 

Dismay  unutterable !  keen  anguish,  and  ven^anoe 

Such  as  beings  infinite  inflict 

Shall  fill  your  reeking  hearts !  The  piercing  criee 

Of  beings  immolated  by  your  lordly  liandd 

Shall  howl  confusion  in  your  frighted  ears ; 

And  cliain  your  souls  in  everlasting  woe. 


i 


I 


^ 


1 


116 


LIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


It  is  a  cheering  thought  that  the  designs  of 
men   are  oflen  happily  prevented  by  the  inter- 
position of  Divine  Frovidence,   and  that  its 
overruling  arm  is  ever  stretched  forth  for  the 
accomplishment  of  its  own  designs  of  forbear- 
ance towards  guilty  man  :  it  was  so  in  my  case. 
Had  the  servant  gone  immediately  to  the  guard 
room,  at  the   barracks  and  alarmed  the  guard, 
in  all  probability  they  would  have   discovered 
my  route  and  perhaps  have  shot  me  dead  upon 
the  spot,  as  I   understood  the  captain  and  his 
soldiers  pursued    me  with   rrfles  and  pistols. 
But  as  it  was,  he  first  went  and  informed  the 
officers   at  the  ball  room,  so  that  a  sufficient 
time  elapsed  for  me  to  escape  their  pursuit,  and 
thus  my  life  was  prolonged,  and  time  given  me 
for  repentance.     Thus  i  have  abundant  reason 
to  thank  and  adore  the  divine  goodness  for  the 
mercy  which  spared  me  through  this  critical 
event ! 

Having  remained  for  some  days  imprisoned 
in  the  main  guard,  under  the  most  intense  suf- 
fering of  body  and  mind,  I  was  informed  of 
their  intention  to  commit  me  to  the  city  prison. 
Nor  did  I  wait  long  before  a  non-commissioned 
officer  with  two  men  of  my  company  visited 
me,  brought  me  my  clothes,  &c.  and  said  it 
was  their  orders  to  conduct  me  to  the  civil  pris- 
on .     Inasmuch  as  the  military  law  took  no  cog- 
nizance of  my  act  of  taking  the  horse,  I  was 
in  consequence  thereof  delivered  over  for  civil 
process,  which,  afler  suffering  the  penalty  of 
my  crime,  should  the  punishment  not  be  deaihj  I 


lesigns  of 
the  inter- 
I  that  its 
i  for  the 
r  forbear- 
i  my  case, 
the  guard 
|ie  guard, 
iscovered 
ead  upon 
k  and  his 
1  pistols, 
'med  the 
sufficient 
•suit,  and 
?iven  me 
1^'  reason 
s  for  the 
s  critical 

iprisoned 
use  suf- 
rmed  of 
r  prison, 
missioned 
^  visited 
.  said  it 
ivil  pris- 
''  no  cog- 
'>  I  was 
for  civil 
lalty  of 
dcaihj  I 


^ 


1. 1\ 


1 


y 


tIFE  OP  W.  B.  LICIITON. 


117 


r. 

3; 


'A 

,i 

■A 
A 

•X, 

< 

a 

o 

H 

IS 


was  then  recognizable  for  the  act  of  desertion. 
This  change  in  my  situation  filled  me  for  a  mo- 
ment with  sensations  of  a  pleasing  nature, 
which  however,  were  soon  damped  by  the  con- 
sideration that  my  crime,  according  to  British 
law,  was  punishable  with  death.  Notwithstand- 
ing my  prospect  was  dark  and  dreary  before 
me,  I  rejoiced  that  I  had  escaped  the  ignomy 
of  a  public  whipping,  which  to  me  would  have 
been  worse  than  death,  had  I  only  been  prepar- 
ed. This  circumstance  was  to  me  a  most  pe- 
culiarly trying  one,  when  my  fortitude  and  eve- 
ry feeling  of  my  agitated  soul  was  put  to  its 
trial  as  I  was  ushered  into  the  cold  damp  prison 
of  Montreal.  The  harsh  grating  of  the  iron 
doors,  the  massive  bolts  and  bars  by  which  they 
were  secured,  and  above  all,  the  gloomy  dun- 
geon in  which  I  was  placed,  sunk  my  spirits  in- 
to the  depths  of  despondency  and  grief  Ad- 
ded to  this,  I  was  placed  in  a  room  in  company 
with  some  of  the  vilest  miscreants  in  creation. 
Men  who  seemed  by  a  long  continuance  in 
crime  to  have  lost  their  humanity  ;  and  to  have 
imbibed  the  spirit  of  Satan  himself.  Here  I 
endured  hunger  and  want  without  mitigation, 
or  relief,  until  my  hitherto  robust  frame  began 
to  yield  to  these  accumulated  inconveniences, 
and  threatened  me  with  early  dissolution.  As 
it  was,  it  produced  a  weakness  that  has  taken 
years  for  me  to  recover  from.  In  this  situation 
I  made  an  appeal  to  the  liberality  of  the  regi- 
ment, to  which  I  belonged  ;  they  immediately 
began  a  subscription  for  my  relief,  but  the  cap- 


I 


m 


118 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


! 


tain  hearing  of  their  intention,  strictly  forbade 
them  from  sending  me  a  single  copper.  Thus 
did  the  hard-hearted  Captain  prove  that  he  was 
sincere  when  he  said  he  would  ^^  show  me  no 
mercy  zX  all." 

Again  did  an  ever  watchful  Providence  pro- 
vide me  a  friend  in  my  extremity,  in  the  person 
of  a  Mr.  Weidenbecker,  with  whom  I  was  ac- 
quainted during  my  abode  with  Capt.  Pierce. 
This  gentleman  had  formed  a  favorable  opinion 
of  my  character,  and  had  conceived  a  feeling  of 
the  strongest  attachment  towards  me :  he  discov- 
ered the  true  reason  of  my  former  imprudence, 
and  while  he  was  willing  to  blame  the  crime, 
he  saw  that  the  offender  was  more  deserving 
of  pity  than  censure.  From  him  I  occasional- 
ly received  a  supply  of  food  and  through  him 
the  sympathy  of  others  was  excited  in  my  be- 
half, but  notwithstanding  these  kind  helps,  I 
Qtill  had  much  to  endure,  and  much  to  suffer. 
Mr.  W.  also  assured  me  he  would  procure  ev- 
ery possible  assistance  at  my  trial,  which  was 
expected  to  come  on  in  the  spring  ;  he  promis- 
ed to  give  his  testimony  to  my  moral  character, 
&c.  Such  tokens  of  friendship  as  this,  were 
peculiarly  adapted  to  comfort  me  in  my  unfor- 
tunate and  lonely  situation. 

I  now  began  to  recover  from  my  lameness, 
and  to  apply  myself  to  reading  and  study,  es- 
pecially to  music;  the  latter  study,  however, 
was  forbidden  me  by  the  goaler,  to  whom  it 
was  disagreeable,  but  being  a  pious  man,  he 
kindly  provided   me  with  religious  books,  to 


i 


I   i 


--^.„mmm 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


119 


r  forbade 
r.  Thus 
Eit  he  was 
w  me  no 

snce  pro- 
le person 
[  was  ac- 
:.  Pierce. 
3  opinion 
beling  of 
le  discov- 
)rudence, 
he  crime, 
leserving 
^casionai- 
>ugh  him 
n  my  be- 
helps,  I 
Buffer. 
)cure  ev- 
hich  was 
promis- 
laracter, 
lis,  were 
unfor- 

leness, 
ludy,  es- 
lowever, 
(whom  it 

lan,  he 
ioks,  to 


which  I  applied  myself  with  persevering  dili- 
gence, and  through  which  circumstance  I  ob- 
tained a  taste  for  reading  and  study,  which  has 
remained  by  me  to  the  present  time,  and  which 
I  have  found  to  be  especially  advantageous. 

But  while  my  studious  habits  gave  no  small 
satisfaction  to  the  goaler,  it  gave  rise  to  an  un- 
pleasant excitement  among  my  fellow  prisoners, 
who  constantly  treated  me  so  rudely,  that  I  was 
induced  to  petition  for  a  removal  to  some  other 
place  of  confinement  ;  which  petition  was 
crowned  with  success,  and  I  was  removed  to  a 
pleasant  room  in  the  front  part  of  the  prison, 
from  whence  I  had  a  full  view  of  the  market 
place,  &c. 

As  the  time  of  my  trial  approached  I  became 
extremely  impatient  ;  my  mind  was  continually 
on  the  rack  of  suspense  in  regard  to  my  ap- 
proaching fate.  My  accusers  however  ;  did 
not  come  forward,  and  my  case  in  consequence, 
was  deferred  to  the  next  court  which  did  not 
sit  under  six  months.  Thus  I  was  lefl  through 
that  period,  a  prey  to  anxiety  and  trouble  of 
mind,  as  well  as  of  bodily  suffering  ;  which  to- 
gether, considerably  impaired  my  health.  Dur- 
ing that  time  my  regiment  was  removed  to 
Kingston,  Upper  Canada,  and  by  its  removal, 
begat  the  hope  that  my  accusers  would  neglect 
to  appear  against  me  at  the  next  session,  and 
that  consequently,  I  should  be  kept  until  its 
third  sitting,  and  then,  from  absence  of  witnes- 
ses, should  be  liberated  according  to  law. 
Foolish  thought  !  the  officers  only  neglected  to 


I 


UKKO;  :i^- 


I  IP- 


1  . 


ti  li    'I 


!i"    Wl 


I.    i\ 


120 


LIFE   OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


appear  at  the  first  court,  in  order  to    prolong 
my   imprisonment,  and  increase  my  suspense  ' 

Previous  to  the  approach  of  the  next  court, 
I  addressed  myself  to  a  noted  Counsellor  in  the 
city,  who  visited  me,  and  promised  to  become 
my  advocate  ;  I  also  prepared  an  address  to  the 
court,  soliciting  mercy  and  compassion.  When 
the  court  commenced  its  session,  I  was  inform- 
ed of  the  arrival  of  Col.  R.  and  Capt.  P.  to  at* 
tend  my  trial.  At  length,  escorted  by  a  strong 
guard  of  Constables,  I  was  placed  at  the  bar  ; 
the  solemnity  of  the  scene — the  importance  of 
my  case — and  the  presence  of  my  accusers, 
overwhelmed  me  with  confusion,  and  I  almost 
fell  to  the  earth.  My  trial  however,  did  not 
proceed  that  day  ;  I  was  simply  asked  whether 
guilty  or  not  guilty  }  to  which  L  replied,  ^*M>t 
gt«t%;"  when  they  ordered  me  back  to  prison, 
informing  me  I  should  be  tried  the  next  day. 

This  delay  offered  me  leisure  to  fortify  my 
mind,  and  recover  from  the  confusion  into  which 
I  had  been  thrown.  The  next  morning  I  was 
taken  into  court  under  better,  and  more  suita- 
ble feelings  of  mind  to  endure  my  trial.  The 
court  was  crowded  and  intense  interest  was  dis- 
played by  all  present  durins  its  progress. 
When  the  jury  were  impannelled,  I  took  care 
to  challenge  all  whose  countenances  did  not 
bear  evidence  of  youth  and  sympathy,  thinking 
that  those  who  were  in  the  prime  of  life,  would 
take  a  deeper  interest  in  my  prosperity  and 
blend  mercy  with  justice.  To  my  confusion, 
the  lawyer  who  had  promised  to  plead  my  case, 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


121 


prolong 
ispense ' 
it  court, 
or  in  the 
become 
iss  to  the 
.    When 
s  inform- 
P.  to  at- 
a  strong 
the  bar  ; 
'tance  of 
ic.cusers, 
I  almost 
,  did   not 
[  whether 
ed,  "JVoe 
o  prison, 
t  day. 
rtify  my 
ito  which 
ng  I  was 
re  Buita- 
d.     The 
was  dis- 
>rogress. 
•ok  care 
did  not 
Ithinking 
,  would 
ity  and 
infusion, 
ly  case, 


i 


suddenly  lefl  the  court,  and  abandoned  me  to 
the  mercy  of  my  accusers  ;  the  goaler,  seeing 
my  distress,  whispered  me  to  address  the  court 
for  an  advocate  ;  which  I  did  ;  whereupon  they 
granted  my  request. 

The  landlord  who  apprehended  me  was  one 
of  the  principal  witnesses,  but  he  was  so  alter- 
ed that  I  scarcely  knew  him  :  a  deathlike  pale- 
ness had  overspread  his  cheeks,  and  as  I  was 
afterwards  informed,  he  died  soon  after  my  trial. 
In  about  an  hour,  the  testimony  of  the  witness- 
es was  all  given  in,  and  after  my  Counsel  had 
ably  and  eloquently  pleaded  my  case,  the  jury, 
having  received  their  charge,  retired,  and  after 
a  few  minutes  conversation,  returned  with  a 
verdict  against  me,  accompanied  with  a  strong 
recommendation  for  MERCY. 

This  announcement  filled  me  with  alarm  and 
terror  ;  all  my  hopes  were  built  upon  the  last 
words  of  the  jury  :  "  We  recommend  him  for 
Mercy. ^^  My  lawyer  observing  my  emotion, 
came  to  me  at  the  bar,  and  told  me  I  need  ap- 
prehend no  danger  of  suffering  death,  for  said 
he,  "  the  jury  have  done  an  act  in  recommend- 
ing you  for  mercy,  which  will,  in  spite  of  all 
opposition,  prove  your  salvation."  He  added, 
"you  will  no  doubt  receive  sentence  of  death, 
but  don't  despond,  for  it  will  not  be  executed  ; 
but  in  the  course  of  a  short  time  you  will  be  re- 
prieved, and  will  probably  have  to  suffer  one 
or  two  years  imprisonment,  as  the  Governor 
may  determine."  He  then  ofi'ered  me  a  few 
words  of  advice,  and  left  me,  having  received 
12 


\m 


it- ,« 


i>fJr 


!?*3 


122 


LIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGHTON- 


i     j !  [  ,  ; 


I  [ 


my  hearty  thanks,  which  was  all  I  had  to  be- 
stow in  return  for  his  services. 

I  was  now  remanded  back  to  prison,  to  await 
the  end  of  the  session,  which   lasted   several 
days  on  account  of  the  number  of  commitments. 
The  result  of  the  proceedings  of  the  court  was, 
that  nine  were  found  guilty  of  capital  crimes  ; 
when  we  were  all  brought  up  to  receive  our 
sentences.     It  is  impossible  for  me  to  give  c 
just  description  of  that  eventful  day  ;  then,  ev- 
ery man's  strength  failed  him  ;  every  counte- 
nance betrayed  the  secret  workings  of  the  heart; 
every  fountain  of  sorrow  was  opened,  and  found 
vent  in  floods  of  tears  ;  the  stout  hearted  trem- 
bled, and  wished  he  had  never  been  born.  'J'he 
solemn  scene   began  ;   when,  not  a  word  was 
heard,  save  those  of  the  Judge  ;  all  was  still  as 
death.     We  were  asked  if  we  had  any  request 
to  make  ;    upon  which  we  all  fell  upon  our 
knees,  and  humbly  begged  for  pardon  ;  to  which 
it  was  replied,  "/If  cannot  be  granted  you.'^^  The 
senior  judge  now  pronounced  sentence  of  death 
upon  us,  which  ran  as  follows  :    "  The  sentence 
of  this  court  isy  that  you  shall  be  taken  back  to  the 
place  from  whence  you  came,  and  from  thence y  in 
four  weeks f  be  conveyed  to  the  place  of  executioUy 
there  to  be  hanged  by  the  neck  until  you  are  dead, 
and  may  Ood  Mmighty  have  mercy  upon  your 
«ou/5."     Notwithstanding  I  had  but  little  ap- 
prehension about  the  putting  of  this  sentence 
mto  execution,  yet  my  sensations  wer6  pecu- 
liarly distressing  ;   and  although  I  aflected  in- 
diflTerence,  yet  my  heart  was  sad  ;  it  was  im* 


ad  to  be- 


I,  to  await 
i   several 
mitments. 
ourt  was, 
1  crimes  ; 
;eive  our 
to  give  c 
then,  ev- 
y  counte- 
;he  heart ; 
md  found 
ted  trem- 
Drn.  'J 'he 
ivord  was 
as  still  as 
Y  request 
ipon  our 
to  which 
m."  The 
I  of  death 
;  sentence 
ack  to  the 
thence,  in 
\xecutiony 
ire  dead, 
oon  your 
ittle  ap- 
sentence 
ire  pecu- 
Bcted  in- 
was  im- 


>'% 


V  \     i  'i  . 


■ 


r 


I 


i 

*■ 

i; 

1 

hJ 

4.-' 

LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTOPf. 


123 


i 


H 
H 

a 

O 

3Q 


en 


Ok 


Q 
as 


possible  to  divest  myself  of  fear  and  terror. 
We  were  now  conducted  back  to  prison,  loaded 
with  irons,  and  were  thrust  into  the  condemned 
room,  a  sorrowful,  gloomy,  and  miserable  apart- 
ment, to  which  none  were  admitted,  save  the 
clergy,  and  those  who  had  business  of  impor- 
tance with  the  prisoners. 

On  the  third  day  afler  my  condemnation^  my 
friend  Mr.  Weidenbecker,  in  company  with 
another  gentleman,  came  to  visit  me  ;  they 
mentioned  the  expediency  of  petitioning  His 
Excellency,  the  Earl  of  Dalhousie,  the  Gov- 
ernor, for  my  reprieve,  and  offered  to  prepare 
it,  if  I  were  willing.  Of  course  I  assented, 
and  the  next  day  Mr.  W.  returned  with  a  peti- 
tion, very  ably  drawn  up  for  my  signature.  Af- 
ter signing  it  myself,  he  subscribed  his  own 
name,  and  having  procured  the  signatures  of 
the  jurors  of  my  trial,  forwarded  it  to  the  Gov- 
ernor immediately.  Such  was  the  benevolence 
of  this  gentleman,  and  such  his  attachment  to- 
wards me,  that  I  shall  never  cease  to  remem^- 
ber  his  name  with  gratitude.  His,  was  a  love 
which  approached  nearest  to  disinterestedness 
of  any  thing  I  ever  knew  ;  he  unexpectedly  be- 
came my  friend  in  my  hour  of  extremity  and 
danger,  and  his  friendship  remained  inviolable, 
during  my  acquaintance  with  him.  What  ac- 
quisition is  so  precious  as  that  of  a  friend  ? 

How  strong  the  friendly  h^art  controls. 
The  feelings  of  our  troubled  souls. 
It  cheers  the  gloom  of  blackest  night. 
And  puts  our  num'rous  fears  to  flight. 


:i:^' 


r'Mi 


!  1  : 


IT 


:ii'!('i; 


!l: 


!»      ii,:;!; 


ill 
I 


^ 


I 


124 


LU'i;    VV   \V.  U.  Li 


U  11 


to; 


Tl.e 


til  h 


pnsonei  d  ueii,  it  li;;lits  with  Hope 
And  inaket!!  his  gloomy  soul  look  up  ! 
And  though  he  may  with  woe  contend, 
He  finds  u  treasure  in  his  frienii. 

Friendship  on  earth  !  'tis  nobler  far, 
Tiian  all  the  riches  of  a  Czar  ! 
A  friend  whose  love  through  woe  will  hold, 
His  worth  can  ne*cr  be  told  in  GOLD  ! 


Perhaps  the  reader  would  be  pleased  to  learn 
something  of  the  character  and  feelings  of  iny 
fellow  prisoners,  while  under  condemnation, 
and  in  expectation  of  speedy  death.  Of  our 
number,  seven  were  Catholics,  natives  of  Can- 
ada, except  one,  who  was  a  South  American  ■, 
these  were  profane  and  disgusting  in  their  con- 
versation and  manners,  at  first,  a  very  natural 
consequence  of  the  destructive  faith  they  pro- 
fessed. If  they  sinned,  they  found  a  salvo  for 
a  guilty  conscience  in  confession  to  the  priest, 
who,  poor  man,  affected  to  forgive  them  offen- 
ces, committed  against  a  holy  and  infinite  God. 
The  other  was  a  protestant,  a  mulatto  from  the 
United  States,  whose  demeanor  was  more  se- 
rious and  proper.  We  were  visited  daily,  by 
Roman  Catholic  priests,  to  whom  their  adhe- 
rents paid  no  small  share  of  reverence  and  at- 
tention. We  were  also  visited  by  a  Clergyman 
of  the  establishment,  who  labored  incessantly  to 
instruct  us  in  the  wisdom  of  the  Gospel,  and  to 
impress  our  minds  with  the  importance  of  obe- 
dience to  its  precepts.  Such,  however,  was 
our  state,  that  we  understood  but  little  of  the 
vitality  of  religion,  or  of  its  operation  upon  the 


'^ 


LIFE   OF   W.  li.  LlOillTOX. 


125 


.merican 


heart.     For  my  ewn  part,  although  I  had  re- 
ceived some  knowledge  of  God  in  my  early 
life,  yet  I  had  supposed  (hat  a  strict  attention 
to  morality,   was   all   the   Bible  required.     I 
knew,  to  be  sure,  that  Jesus  Christ  had  suffer- 
ed death,  but  for  what,  and  for  whom  I  scarce- 
ly knew  ;   hence,  when   questioned  about  the 
grace  of  God,  repentance,  and  faith,  all  I  could 
say,  only  tended  to  set  forth  my  lamentable  ig- 
norance of  these  glorious  truths.     This  discov- 
ery induced  the  Clergyman  to  spare  no  efforts, 
time,  or  pains,  to  pour  instruction  into  our  dark 
and  benighted  minds.     He  seriously  exhorted 
us  to  attend  to  the  salvation  of  our  souls,  point- 
ing out  the  way  in  the  simplest  and  most  affec- 
tionate manner,  and  then  joining  in  prayer,  he 
would  commit  us  to  God,  and  leave  us  to  our 
reflections. 

I  became  deeply  serious,  reflected  much  up- 
on my  past  folly,  and  thought  that  then  was  the 
best  time  to  seek  religion,  and  the  salvation  of 
my  soul ;  but  alas  !  I  went  no  further,  though 
his  labors  were  not  in  vain,  inasmuch  as  they 
laid  the  foundation  of  my  subsequent  conver- 
sion. The  effects  of  his  visits,  however,  were 
glorious  in  regard  to  the  mulatto;  for  he  became 
deeply  convicted,  and  began  to  call  upon  God 
through  Jesus  Christ,  and  soon  found  salvation 
through  his  most  precious  blood.  He  remained, 
during  the  rest  of  his  life  a  most  devoted  and 
holy  Christian,  the  work  of  grace  upon  his 
heart,  was  evident  to  every  observer. 

While  in  this  confinement,  I  received  the 


126 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


following  epistle  from  Mr.  Apple,  my  former 
comrade,  who  had  obtained  his  discharge. 

Laprarie,  Oct. — ,  1823. 
My  Dear  Friend — Your  unfortunate  situa- 
tion is  a  subject  of  the  deepest  concern  to  me. 
Nothing  ever  gave  me  more  exquisite  pain  than 
the  news  of  your  being  sentenced  to  death. 
But  the  fact  that  the  jury  plead  for  your  life, 
upon  the  day  of  trial,  is  a  subject  the  most  in- 
teresting and  cheering  that  I  can  conceive  of ; 
and  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  but  that  you  will 
be  pardoned.  Indeed,  I  am  impatiently  wait- 
ing to  hear  the  result  of  your  case.  Believe 
me,  comrade,  1  feel  for  you  as  I  should  for  a 
son,  and  would  as  soon  fly  to  your  relief.  Let 
me  advise  you  to  endure  your  sufferings  pa- 
tiently. Don't  be  dispirited,  but  submit  your 
case  to  the  all-wise  disposer  of  human  events, 
who  alone  is  able  to  sustain  the  afflicted,  and 
make  way  for  their  escape.  And,  although 
your  situation  is  apparently  the  most  dismal 
that  could  well  be  imagined,  yet,  let  me  cheer 
your  gloomy  mind  with  the  fond  assurance  that 
you  may  safely  hope  soon  to  receive  pardon  ; 
for  the  circumstance  I  have  mentioned,  is  proof 
that  you  cannot — will  not  suffer.  Let  my  sym- 
pathy, together  with  the  little  sum  I  send  en- 
closed, cheer  you,  till  you  are  more  happily 
relieved.  Did  not  the  distance,  and  the  pres- 
sure of  business  prevent,  I  should  visit  you 
You  will  therefore,  kindly  excuse  me,  and  be- 
lieve me  to  be  your  sincere  friend. 

HENRY  APPLE. 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


127 


This  letter  came  to  hand  very  opportunely, 
and  had  a  happy  effect  upon  my  mind.     My 
heart   had   begun  to  sink,  at  the  sight  of  the 
misery  and  wretchedness  the  prisoners  now  be- 
gan  to   evince,   as   the   day  of  execution  ap- 
proached.    Their  solemn  and  intense  prepara- 
rations  to  meet  their  fates  ;  the  perfect  security 
under  which  we  were  confined  ;  but  above  all, 
their  deep  groans  in  the  night  season,  as  they 
awoke  from  their  terriffic  dreams,  were  causes 
powerful  enough  to  disturb  the  peace  of  one  in 
the  possession  of  liberty  and  prosperity  ;  much 
more,  of  one  who  was  by  no  means  certain  that 
he  would  not  die  a  culprit's  death.     At  length 
the  gaoler  visited  our  apartment,  bringing  me 
the  cheering  intelligence  that  the  Governor  had 
sent  my  reprieve,  and  told  me  I  should  be  taken 
out  of  my  irons  the  next  day,  and  conveyed  to 
another  room.     This  intelligence  made  me  re- 
joice beyond  degree,  and  notwithstanding  my 
irons,  I  paced  the  room  with  exultation,  and  felt 
us  if  I  were  light  as  a  feather  ;  nor  did  I  envy 
the  king  on  his  throne.     I  was  not  permitted  to 
pass  the  night  in  the  dismal  cell  with  the  poor 
culprits,   but  was   removed  to  one   adjoining, 
whence  I  heard  no  more  thoir  dismal  cries  and 
groanings.     I  slept  but  little  through  the  night 
for  joy,  and  in  the  morning  my  irons  were  taken 
off,   and  I  left  my  dreary  dungeon,  and  took 
possession  of  my  old   apartment  opposite  the 
public  street.     My   extacy  of  joy  that  I  now 
felt  was   beyond  language  to  describe.     I  felt 
relieved,  yea,   I  almost  felt  as  if  I  was  libera- 


i 


1 


pi 

6J. 


I 


il 


130 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


hearts  wer*^  so  swolen  with  grief,  that  we  could 
hardly  command  our  feelings. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  prison  yards,and 
every  adjacent  spot  were  crowded  with  specta- 
tors, who  came  to  witi.ess  the  awful  scene.     At 
twelve   o'clock  the  victims  were  brought  from 
prison,  and  with  tottering  steps  conveyed  to  the 
drop  ;  the  ropes  were  carefully  adjusted  round 
their  necks,  and  after  the  offering  up  of  prayer 
to  God  by  the  clergy,  commending  their  souls 
to  his  infinite  mercy,  the  drop  fell ;  they  strug- 
gled a  few  moments,  and  then  all  was  still  as 
death  ;    they    had   gone   to    their   reward.     I 
viewed  their  death  from  a  chink  in  the  wall  of 
my  prison  ;    and  never,  till  that  moment,  did  I 
experience  such  cold,  chilling,  heart  rending 
emotions  ;  and  I  pray  God  I  may  never  again 
witness  a  similar  scene.     I  cannot  forbear  just 
mentioning  to  my  readers,  the  crimes  for  which 
these  men  suffered  ;  two  of  them  had  been  ac- 
complices in  breaking  into  a  store  ;    and  the 
other  had   stolen  some  live  stock   which  was 
found  in  his  possession,  and  recovered  again. 
These  were  the  crimes  for  which  they  were 
hung  ;  that  their  punishment  was  greater  than 
their  crimes  is  obvious  ;  and  all  I  need  say  is, 
that  it  is  time  such  laws  were  abrogated  by  ev- 
ery nation  professing  the  christian  religion.     I 
am,  however,  happy  to  state  that  the  laws  of 
my  beloved    country   are   annually    becoming 
more  lenient  and  merciful,  and  that  death  is  now 
only  inflicted  for  higher  and  more  dangerous 
crimes. 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


131 


we  could 

ardsjund 
specta- 
ene.  At 
ght  from 
ed  to  the 
cd  round 
of  prayer 
leir  souls 
ey  strug- 
s  still  as 
ward.  X 
3  wall  of 
nt,  did  I 
t  rending 
er  again 
bear  just 
for  which 
been  ac- 

and  the 
hich  was 
sd  again, 
ley  were 
ater  than 
fd  say  is, 
id  by  ev- 
gion.     I 

laws  of 
ecoming 
Ih  is  now 
mgerous 


The  awful  feelings,  incident  to  the  solemni- 
ties we  had  witnessed,  were  soon  worn  off  by  a 
consideration  of  our  own  situation  :  as  to  our 
future  lot  we  were  entirely  ignorant  :  we  amu- 
sed ourselves  with  conjecturing  what  wolild  be 
the  result,  when,  afler  a  few  weeks,  it  was  re- 
vealed to  us  in  the  following  mysterious  man- 
ner. 

In  the  dark  hour  of  night  as  we  were  occu- 
pied in  walking  up  and  down  our  room  in  con- 
*  versation  about  our  future   destiny,   we  were 
suddenly  alarmed  with  the  rattling  of  chains 
and  the  approach  of  footsteps  towards  the  door 
of  our  room  ;    we  were  amazed  ;  every  man 
turned  pale,  some  expecting  nothing  else  but 
to  be  brought  once  more  under  the  fatal  sent- 
ence from  which  we  had  been  reprieved,  while 
others,  more  sanguine,  thought  we  were  about 
to  be  taken  across  the  St.  Lawrence  and  com- 
manded to  leave  the  country.     In  the  midst  of 
our  fears  the  doer  was  opened  ;  a  number  of 
men  entered,  laden  with  irons,  and  without  the 
least  ceremony,  riveted  them   fast   upon   our 
limbs.     This  done,  we  were  ordered  down  the 
prison  stairs,  and  conducted  to  the  yard,  where 
was  a  horse  and  cart  in  waiting,  into  whick^ 
with  much  difficulty,  we  clambered.     We  were 
then  driven   through  the   main   street  to  the 
wharf,  and  put  on  board  a  steamboat  which  im- 
mediately btarted  towards  Quebec.     The  rea- 
son of  this  strange   and  mysterious  move   we 
could  not  conjecture  ;  but  finally  concluded  we 
were  about  to  be  transported  to  Bermuda,  or 
13 


ill 


4    1 
■I, 

!' 
ill" 

'  ■•■' 
■  f* 


|t;i'  i 


li'      I 


132 


LIFE    OF    W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


M  m:  ! 


M 


some  other  foreign  place,  until  the  gaoler,  who 
was  one  of  our  attendants,  informed  us  we  were 
all  sentenced  to  five  years  hard  labor  in  Que- 
bec jail. 

The  boat  made  a  stop  at  Three  Rivers,  and 
took  in  another  prisoner,  who  was  under  the 
same  sentence  as  ourselves,  and  after  forty- 
eight  hours  sail,  arrived  at  Quebec.  The 
gaoler,  under  whose  care  we  were  now  to  be 
placed,  soon  came  on  board,  and  having  ascer- 
tained our  numbers,  &.c.  left  us,  and  speedily  re-  • 
turned  with  a  horse  cart,  in  which  we  were  ta- 
ken to  the  prison  ;  the  sight  of  which,  was 
enough  to  fill  the  mind  with  the  most  gloomy 
apprehensions.  Passing  through  the  main  en- 
try, which  was  closely  guarded  by  iron  gates 
and  huge  wooden  doors,  we  were  conducted  up 
a  flight  of  stairs,  through  a  dismal  passage,  to  a 
room  in  the  north  part  of  the  prison,  designated 
"the  work-house,"  where  we  were  received  by 
several  companions  in  distress  and  confiiiement, 
whose  looks  and  language  bespoke  our  sym- 
pathy. 

We  had  not  been  here  long  before  we  were 
visited  by  the  turnkey,  accompanied  with  a 
blacksmith,  who,  to  our  no  small  satisfaction, 
relieved  us  of  our  irons,  which  already  had 
produced  on  some  of  us  swolen  legs  and  sore 
hands.  Our  apartment  was  one  of  the  pleas- 
antest  in  the  prison,  as  it  afforded  us  a  view  of 
the  street,  and  of  the  soldiers  barracks,  and 
tended  very  much  to  relieve  the  otherwise 
lonliness  of  our  situation.     But  the  gaoler,  fear- 


r^ 


LIFE  OF  \V.  B.  LIGHTON. 


133 


ler,  who 
we  were 
in  Que- 
ers, and 
ider  the 
Jr  forty - 
The 
)w  to  be 
g  ascer- 
3dilv  re-  • 
were  ta- 
3h,  was 
gloomy 
nain  en- 
>n  gates 
icted  up 
ige,  to  a 
jignated 
;ived  by 
aement, 
ir  sym- 

.ve  were 
with  a 
^faction, 
idy  had 
nd  sore 
3  pleas- 
view  of 
ks,  and 
herwise 
er,  fear- 


ing we  should  attempt  our  escape,  soon  remov- 
ed us  to  a  more  solitary  and  secure  situation, 
where  we  could  only  see  the  sentinel  as  he 
paced  up  and  down  on  his  post  in  the  back  yard 
of  the  prison. 

One  advantage  we  enjoyed  here  was,  that 
visters  were  admitted  every  day  to  see  those 
prisoners,  who,  for  petty  offences,  were  confin- 
ed for  a  few  months  ;  by  means  of  these  we 
were  enabled  to  send  out  for  almost  any  article 
we  were  able  to  purchase,  so  that  our  situation 
upon  the  whole  was  preferable  to  what  it  was 
at  Montreal,  labor  excepted.  On  the  Sabbath, 
divine  worship  was  performed  in  one  of  the 
apartments  in  the  prison,  of  which  privilege  I 
availed  myself  every  Sunday  without  an  excep- 
tion. 

The  reader  has  already  understood  that  we 
were  doomed  to  spend  our  term  of  imprisonment 
in  hard  labor  ;  to  effect  this,  we  were  placed 
upon  a  tread  loheel,  which  was  used  to  break 
stones  for  the  public  highway.  The  wheel  was 
very  large  and  admitted  a  number  of  prisoner? 
upon  it  at  the  same  time.  It  was  set  in  motion 
by  the  weight  of  the  prisoners,  who  were  then 
obliged  to  keep  a  regular  step,  or  ruii  the  risk 
of  breaking  their  legs.  Fortunately  for  us,  the 
concern  did  not  meet  the  expectation  of  the 
projector,  and  was  soon  laid  aside,  to  our  great 
joy  and  satisfaction.  The  failure  of  this  project 
by  no  means  prevented  us  from  being  kept  ac- 
tively employed  ;  for  we  were  then  required  to 
pick  thirty  pounds  of  oakum  a  man  per  week, 
which  was  no  easy  or  trifling  task. 


I 

M 


If 


i 


^t  ! 


i 


134 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


•    t 


ill 


us) 
We 


With  our  labor  we  found  our  appetites  in- 
creased, and  our  scanty  allowance,  (which  was 
hrrad  and  water,  it  being  but  one  pound  and  a 
half  of  bread,  composed  of  c<)tarse  materials, 
which  was  all  the  kind  of  food  we  had  allowed 
was  insufficient  to  support  us  in  our  work. 

e  immediately  made  our  complaint  to  the 
gaoler,  informing  him  that  unless  he  gave  us 
more  to  eat  we  could  not  do  the  task  assigned 
us  ;  in  reply,  he  told  us  ^^he  could  not  help  w, 
and  that  we  had  better  apply  to  the  Governor. ^^ 
Upon  this  we  drew  up  a  petition,  setting  forth 
our  wants  and  privations  in  the  clearest  and 
most  forcible  manner,  and  praying  for  immedi- 
ate and  effectual  relief,  and  sent  it  to  the  Gov- 
ernor. But  it  produced  no  effect.  We  next 
petitioned  the  citizens,  presenting  our  distress, 
as  we  had  to  the  Governor,  and  imploring  tliem 
to  assist  us  by  affording  us  some  of  the  neces- 
saries of  life,out  of  the  abundance  they  posses- 
sed. Here  we  were  successful,  and  for  a  while 
obtained  some  small  mitigation  of  our  sorrows, 
but  as  we  continued  to  plead  for  a  continuation 
of  these  favors,  and  to  paint  our  wants  in  the 
most  glowing  colors,  our  situation  became  a 
matter  of  notoriety,  our  distress  became  a  mat- 
ter of  common  conversation,  until  the  officers 
of  the  prison  discovering  that  they  were  likely 
to  be  charged  with  inhumanity  and  hard-heart- 
edness  pubhshed  us  as  impoaters^tind  by  this  act 
stifled  every  generous  and  charitable  feeling 
towards  us,  and  blasted  all  our  hopes  of  assist- 
ance from  this  quarter. 


LIFE   OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


135 


^tites  in- 
hich  was 
nd  and  a 
naterials, 
I  allowed 
ur  work, 
it  to  the 
gave  us 
assigned 
I  help  tUy 

ng  forth 
rest  and 
immedi- 
:he  Gov- 
We  next 
distress, 
ng  them 
5  neces- 
'  posses- 

a  while 
sorrows, 
inuation 

in  the 
scame  a 
i  a  mat- 

ofBcers 
e  likely 
i-heart-. 
this  act 

feeling 
'  assist* 


1     **5 


So  far  did  the  distress  endured  by  us  extend, 
that  on  one  occasion, as  the  turnkey  came  to  our 
apartment,  he  was  followed  by  a  large  cat,  a 
great  favorite  of  one  of  the  gentlemen  of  the 
prison,  which  passed  along  into  one  of  the  cells 
and  was  unobservedly  left  in  the  room.  The 
prisoners  like  beings  suffering  with  starvation, 
seized  the  poor  creature,  and  immediately  kil- 
led and  cooked  it,  and  in  less  than  two  hours 
eat  him  up  ;  those  who  partook  of  it  declared 
it  was  as  savoury  as  veal. 

We  now  contrived  another  plan  to  obtain  help, 
which  was  to  make  skewers  for  the  butchers, 
^nlt  of  part  of  the  wood  we  were  allowed  for 
fires.  As  the  avails  of  these  skewers,  we  re- 
ceived the  offal  of  the  market,  such  as  beePs 
heads,  sheep's  heads,  and  pluck,  &c.  some  of 
which  would  stink  like  carrion,  but  we  devour- 
ed every  think  with  greediness  ;  but  others  in 
the  prison  observing  our  success  adopted  the 
same  method  and  soon  spoiled  our  market. 

I  now  applied  myself  to  drawing  and  paint- 
ing, for  which  I  possessed  considerable  taste, 
hoping  to  obtain  a  trifling  sum  for  my  produc- 
tions,but  found  myself  disappointed.  However, 
I  followed  it  for  amusement,  as  it  tended  to  be- 
guile away  many  of  my  tedious  hours.  Added 
to  want  of  food,  we  suffered  greatly  from  cold, 
as  all  the  bed  clothing  we  were  allowed,  was 
one  blanket  per  man.  Our  dress  too,  became 
thread-bare  and  torn,  and  some  indeed  were  al- 
most naked  ;  which  greatly  increased  our  suf- 
ferings bv  the  cold.    But  this  was  not  the  worst; 


f^  if 


m 
if 


Mi 
1 

:| 


136 


LIFE   OF   W.    B.    LIGIITON. 


iiM,.:i 


the  prison  was  filthy, and  not  having  proper 
necessaries  to  make  us  comfortable,  we  became 
exceedingly  infested  with  lice,  so  that,  in  short, 
we  presented  a  spectacle,  that  would  make  hu- 
manity shudder  at  the  sight. 

We  next  resolved  to  rid  ourselves  of  part  of 
our  labor,  which  we  did  by  throwing  a  large 
portion  of  rope,  brought  us  to  be  picked,  into 
the  privy,  so  that  out  of  thirty  pounds  brought 
to  us,  we  seldom  returned  more  than  one  half, 
the  rest  being  destroyed  in  the  way  mentioned, 
or  by  fire.  In  this  way  we  contrived  to  clear 
the  prison  of  the  article,  and  thus  were  out  of 
employ  for  some  time.  A  great  failure,  howev- 
er, in  the  returns  made  at  the  end  of  the  job, 
created  strong  suspicions  that  we  had  destroyed 
some  of  our  work,  but  as  they  possessed  no  ev- 
idence of  our  guilt,  we  for  a  while,  remained 
undiscovered.  By  and  by  however,  the  draught 
though  twenty  feet  in  depth,  became  filled  up, 
which  led  the  turnkey  to  inspect  it,  when  he 
found  a  huge  pile  of  rope  which  we  had  placed 
there.  Enraged  at  the  discovery,  he  told  us 
that  we  should  pick  it  all  out  as  soon  as  the 
spring  opened,  and  the  draught  should  be  thaw- 
ed. In  this  however,  he  was  mistaken,for  soon 
after  it  began  to  thaw,  the  heavy  current  of 
water  which  passed  through,  washed  it  away 
through  the  common  sewer  into  the  river,  and 
we  heard  no  more  about  it. 

These  unmitigated  sorrows  and  troubles  ten- 
ded to  drive  us  almost  to  despair,  and  some  of 
the  prisoners  were  strongly  tempted  to  commit 


;  proper 

became 

in  short, 

lake  hu- 

'  part  of 
a  large 
ed,  into 
brought 
me  half, 
ntioned, 
to  clear 
B  out  of 
,  howev- 
the  job, 
jstroyed 
i  no  ev- 
smained 
Iraught 
lied  up, 
hen  he 
placed 
told  us 
as  the 
e  thaw- 
or soon 
rent  of 
away 
;r,  and 

es  ten- 
>me  of 
commit 


Ht 

h 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


137 


suicide  ;  and  I  doubt  not  but  they  would  have 
done  it,  had  it  not  been  for  a  faint  hope  that  they 
should  make  their  escape .  Amid  these  calam- 
ities I  was  prompted  to  write  to  my  friend  Mr. 
W.  of  Montreal,  stating  to  him  my  situation 
ar  1  sufferings.  He  was  pleased  to  answer  me, 
and  recommended  me  to  write  to  two  of  his 
friends  in  Quebec,  whose  addresses  he  sent  in 
his  letter.  I  accordingly  wrote  to  one  of  them, 
who  only  ridiculed  me  for  my  pains.  Howev- 
er, I  sent  to  him  a  second  time,  and  enclosed 
Mr.  Ws.  letter  in  one  of  my  own,  which  had  a 
better  effect.  He  sent  me  some  necessaries 
and  a  dollar  in  money. 

When  this  was  expended  I  wrote  to  the  other, 
who  immediately  came  to  visit  me  ;  upon  en- 
tering the  room,  he  inquired  for  me  by  name, 

and  said   he   was    Mr. .     Taking  him 

aside,  I  presented  him  with  Mr.  Ws.  letter  ; 
afler  perusing  it  some  time,  he  asked  me,  ^^are 
you  a  mason  ?"  I  replied,  no  sir  ;  upon  which 
he  started  back  and  said,  ''/  took  you  to  be  one 
by  your  writing,  but  as  you  are  not  I  shall  render 
you  no  assistance. ^^  He  then  lell  me,  apparent- 
ly much  chagrined.  I  confess  I  was  not  a 
little  surprised  at  the  man's  conduct,  at  his  be- 
ing so  desirous  to  know  if  I  was  a  mason,  and 
on  finding  I  was  not,  treated  me  with  so  much 
disdain  and  contempt.  Reader,  he  belonged  to 
a  party  whose  narrow  benc/olence  is  confined 
to  their  own  narrow  circle  !  What  a  benevo- 
lent institution  is  Free  Masonry  ! 

Failing  to  obtain  help  from  this  source,  I 


f  ■I 


^ , 


■r-i 

■I 

■I 

>  i  ^i 


,t:;j 


t  II, 


i 


i\ 


!  ii  :;i 


'f'ii;f 


It 


;l 


138 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


wrote  to  my  father,  but  as  I  never  received  an 
answer,  I  know  not  whetlier  he  ever  saw  my 
letter.  My  situation  remaining  so  painful,  and 
seeing  no  hope  of  its  being  any  better,  I  began 
to  think  of  making  my  escape.  To  effect  it 
from  our  room  of  confinement  I  saw  was  impos- 
sible. I  then  turned  my  attention  to  another 
spot,  where  the  prospect  was  truly  flattering. 
Afler  we  had  done  our  week's  work,  we  had  to 
take  our  several  portions  into  an  upper  garret. 
In  this  garret  were  three  windows,  unprotected 
by  iron  bars  and  of  easy  access  upon  the  inside, 
from  whence  we  were  told  by  the  turnkey ,some 
prisoners  of  the  enemy  made  their  escape,  dur- 
ing the  American  war.  I  used  in  my  weekly 
visits  to  this  place,  to  open  the  windows  and 
look  down  upon  the  busy  multitude  below,  and 
sometimes  would  become  so  excited  as  to  be 
scarcely  able  to  refrain  from  making  the  attempt 
in  open  day.  My  plan  was  to  secrete  myself 
among  the  oakum,  and  in  the  night,  descend 
into  the  street  by  the  aid  of  a  rope.  Before  it 
could  be  accomplished  however,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  obtain  the  confidence  of  my  fellow  pris- 
oners, and  their  consent  to  keep  my  absence 
a  secret  from  the  turnkey,  long  enough  for  me 
to  make  my  escape.  Accordingly  I  laid  my  plan 
before  them,  upon  which  they  promised  to  aid 
me  with  their  secrecy,  though  they  thought  me 
ventursome  in  attempting  it  that  way,  as  the  win- 
dow was  four  stories  from  the  ground,and  a  tri- 
fling mishap  would  be  attended  with  the  most 
serious   consequences.       The  next    time   we 


;!l!:.(| 


natmtuMmm''-  '•'■"'"fq^ 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


139 


ved  an 
aw  my 
111,  and 
began 
fleet  it 
impos- 
mother 
tering. 
had  to 
garret. 
)tected 
inside, 
y^,some 
e,  dur- 
veekly 
vs  and 
W,  and 
to  be 
ittempt 
myself 
escend 
3 fore  it 
neces- 
w  pris- 
bsence 
for  me 
ly  plan 
to  aid 
jht  me 
le  win- 
i  a  tri- 
e  most 
le   we 


carried  our  oakum,  I  was  so  successful  during 
the  hurry  of  business  as  to  secrete  myself 
among  the  lumber  of  the  garret ;   the  rest  of 
the  prisoners  retired,  and  I  fancied  my  self  safe, 
and  sure  to  escape  as  soon  as  night  should  favor 
me  with  darkness.     Unfortunately,  as  the  pris- 
oners were  going  back  to  their  room,  an  order- 
ly prisoner  who  had  the  liberty  of  the  yard,and 
who  assisted  the  turnkey  in  his  duties,  perceiv- 
ed me  to  be  missing  from  among  the  rest  ;  sus- 
pecting the  cause,  he  immediately  returned  to 
the  garret,  and  having  the  keys  of  that  apart- 
ment entered,  and  bade  me  come  forward,  for  I 
was  in  the  most  serious  danger  of  being  dis- 
covered.    I  remained  unwilling  to  yield,  but 
he  continued  to  persuade  me,  and  bid  me  for 
my  own  safety  to   regard  him  as  my  friend. 
Finding  I  was   discovered,   I   came   forward 
from  my   retreat,  and  asked  the  cause  of  his 
importunity.     He  replied,  ^^  that  having  appre- 
hended my  design,  he  had  come  to  dissuade 
me  from  it,  inasmuch  as  it  would  expose  me  to 
death,  should  I  fail,  and  bring  him  under  repre- 
hension for  not  keeping  a  close  watch."     He 
added,  '^  you  may  possibly  make  your  escape 
some  other  way,  where  I  will  not  betray  you, 
nor  will  I  mention  the  present  affair.     Afraid 
of  further  discovery  I  retired  to  my  room,  much 
disappointed,  to  meditate  on  some  new  and 
more  successful  scheme. 

My  next  attempt  was  as  follows :  Our 
water  was  situated  near  the  outer  door  of 
the   prison,   from   whence   we   had  to  get   it 


m 


il 


III 


i 


I'  TM 


n 


i    I 


140 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


every  day,  in  large  wooden  vessels.     I  saw  it 
was  barely  possible  to  rush  by  the  sentry  into 
the  street,  and  accordingly  determined  to  make 
the  trial.  I  communicated  it  to  my  companions, 
who,  pleased  with  my  resolution,  jocosely   ex- 
claimed, ^^  get  away  if  you  can  /"  To  aid  me  in 
my  purpose  they  agreed  to  appoint  me  their  or- 
derly, so  that  I  should  be  able   to  select   the 
most  favorable  opportunity.     To  avoid  suspi- 
cion, I  used  to  go  without  my  hat,  having  secur- 
ed beneath  my  pantaloons,  an  old   woolen  cap, 
which   I  begged  of  a  Frenchman,  one  of  the 
prisoners.     One  day  going  as  usual   after  my 
water,  while    filling   my  tub  very  deliberately, 
the  sentry,  attracted   by  some  novelty,  turned 
his  head,  when  siezing  the  precious  opportunity, 
I  sprang  to  the  door,  and  was  in  the  street,  in  a 
moment,  running  like  a  race  horse.     Just  as  I 
sprang  through  the  door-way,  the  turnkey,  im- 
patient at   our  delay,  came  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs,and  stooping  down  to  see  what  was  doing, 
discovered  a  pair  of  heels  at  the  door,  and  sus- 
pecting foul  play,  he  rushed  into  the  street  be- 
fore I  had  got  ten  rods  from  the  gaol.     I  was 
however,  upon  the  full  run,  but  the  roads  being 
slippery,    (it  was  in  the  early  part  of  spring, 
when  the  streets    were  covered  with  ice)  and 
my  shoes  dry,  I  made  but  little  progress  ;  the 
turnkey  rapidly  gained  upon  me,  and  with  such 
a  stentorious  shout,  as  he  said,  ^'  stop  that  pais- 
oner^^^  that  alarmed  me  of  his  unwelcome  ap- 
proach.    I  ran  with  all  possible  speed,  until  by 
slipping  and   tumbling,  he  came  upon  me,  and 


if 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


141 


I  saw  it 
ntry  into 
to  make 
panions, 
jely  ex- 
id  me  in 
their  or- 
lect  the 
d  suspi- 
g  secur- 
len  cap, 
e  of  the 
ifler  my 
)erately, 
,  turned 
jrtunity, 
eet,  in  a 
ust  as  I 
key,  im- 
i  of  the 
s  doing, 
and  sus- 
reet  be- 
I  was 
ils  being 
spring, 
ce)  and 
ss  ;  the 
ith  such 
lat  pris- 
)me  ap- 
until  by 
me,  and 


knocked  me  down  with  a  blow,  and  then  fasten- 
ing a  firm  grasp  on  my  collar,  conducted  me 
back  to  the  prison.  Upon  arriving  at  the  pris- 
on door,  I  found  the  guard  had  prepared  them- 
selves for  a  pursuit  after  me  ;  they  manifested 
the  most  angry  feelings,  the  sentry  especially, 
was  so  infuriated  that  had  he  dared,  he  would 
have  run  me  through  with  his  bayonet.  A 
large  concourse  of  spectators  had  also  assem- 
bled from  all  quarters,  among  whom  was  the 
gaoler,  who  dealt  out  a  number  of  blows  upon 
my  head  with  his  fist,  and  pulled  my  ears  most 
shamefully,  and  ordered  me  to  be  put  in  irons, 
and  confined  in  the  dungeon. 

My  place  of  confinement  was  opposite  the 
guard-house, and  the  soldiers  amused  themselves 
with  mimicking  my  sufferings  ;  which,  togeth- 
er with  my  miserable  situation,  so  exaspera- 
ted and  excited  my  passions,  that  I  shook  my 
irons,  knocked  it  the  door,  and  screamed  with 
such  vehemence,  that  I  became  entirely  ex- 
hausted, and  at  last,  ashamed  of  my  conduct. 
In  the  evening  I  was  taken  out  of  the  dungeon, 
and  conveyed  back  to  my  room  where  I  was 
suffered  to  remain  in  irons  a  week. 

The  prisoners  still  continued  to  make  the 
most  bitter  complaints,  until  exasperated  by 
their  continued  misery,  they  formed  a  resolu- 
tion to  break  out  of  the  prison  :  an  agreement 
was  made,  by  which  all  of  us  promised  to  abide. 
The  next  question  was,  where  to  make  the  at- 
tempt ;  to  break  from  our  own  room,  seemed 
to  be  a  task  ins^urmountable,  and  impossible, 
on  account  of  its  being  so  near  the  post  occu- 


li 


■  i 


1 1 
M 

\i 


if 


I; 


::^ 


142 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


pied  by  the  sentry.     The  room  in  which   we 
were  ^rst  confined,  viz.  the  workhouse,  offered 
advantages  far  preferable  to  the  one  we  occu- 
pied, which  made  it  a  matter  of  importance  for 
us  to  gain  possesion  of  it  if  practicable.     This 
could  not  be  done  without  the  consent  of  the 
gaoler  ;   to  gain  this,  we  behaved  ourselves  in 
the  most  unexceptionable  manner,  and  having 
ingratiated  ourselves  in  his  favor,  we  made  our 
request  to  be  confined  in  the  workhouse,  as  we 
thought  we  should  enjoy  ourselves  better,  as  in 
eur  present  room  we  were  in  danger  of  sick- 
ness, from  the  almost  insuperable  stench  of  the 
privy.     Supposing   us   sincere,  he   granted  us 
the  privilege,  as  also  the  liberty  of  walking  oc- 
casionally in  the  yard.     Our  time  being  occu- 
pied during   the  day   in   breaking  stones,  for 
which  we  received  one  half  penny  per  bushel, 
we  had  but  little  spare  time  to  mature  our  proj- 
ect.    Previous  to   commencing  operations,  wo 
bound  ourselves  by  oath,  to  stand  or  fall  togeth- 
er.    In  doing   this,  we  chose  an  old  man  by 
the   name  of  Pireau  for  a  justice,  who  was  in- 
ferior to  none  in  administering  the  oath.     Ho 
was  candid,   deliberate,   and  solemn,  obliging 
each  to  repeat  the  words  after  him,  and  to  kiss 
the  Holy  Bible,  (afler  the  English  manner  of 
taking  the  oath)  concluding  with  these  words, 
"  I  will  agree  to  the  design  proposed,  and  in 
every  respect  prove  faithful,  so  help  me  God  !" 
We  immediately  proceeded  to  make  prepar- 
ations ;  the  old  man  was  appointed  chief  in  the 
enterprise  ;   his  plan  was  to  cut  away  the  bars 


i. 


LIFE  or  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


143 


hich  we 
},  offered 
^e  occu- 
tance  for 
e.  This 
it  of  the 
selves  in 
id  having 
nade  our 
se,  as  we 
ter,  as  in 

of  sick- 
ich  of  the 
ranted  us 
liking  oc- 
ing  occu- 
tones,  for 
jr  bushel, 
our  proj- 
itions,  we 
ill  togeth- 
1  man  by 
10  was  in- 
ath.  Ho 
,  obliging 
id  to  kiss 
lanner  of 
sse  words, 
;d,  and  in 
^e  God  !" 
ce  prepar- 
ief  in  the 

the  bars 


of  our  window,  as  no  other  way  seemed  practi- 
cable. To  effect  this,  we  sent  out  by  one  of 
the  visitors,  and  procured  a  knife  and  file  ;  the 
knife  however,  was  so  thick  and  unfit  for  the 
purpose,  we  had  to  take  it,  each  alternately, 
and  rub  it  on  a  stone  until  it  became  fit  for  our 
purpose.  The  old  man,  who  was  afterwards, 
for  his  singular  cunning,  called  the  '^  old  fox^^ 
made  it  into  a  saw,  and  hid  it  over  a  door,  ready 
for  a  convenient  time.  From  our  being  so 
strictly  guarded  by  sentinels,  it  was  difficult  to 
determine  where  to  commence  our  operations  ; 
at  length,  we  fixed  on  the  window  of^  the  north 
corner  of  the  prison,  which  was  the  only  place 
where  we  could  expect  success.  Close  by  this 
window  was  the  wall  of  the  prison  yard,  which 
rose  about  three  ^Q^i  higher  than  the  window  : 
our  intention  was,  to  cut  away  the  inner  and 
the  outer  bars,  and  then  by  means  of  a  plank 
we  had  procured  for  the  purpose,  mount  the 
top  of  the  wall,  and  descend  on  the  other  side 
by  a  rope  attached  to  the  remaining  bars  of  the 
window.  As  we  wero  so  closely  guarded  by 
sentinels,  we  were  necessarily  prevented  from 
prosecuting  our  scheme  in  calm  nights,  and 
were  obliged  to  select  the  wet  and  stormy, 
when  the  sentinels  would  be  taking  the  shelter 
afforded  them  by  their  boxes.  While  our  old 
friend  was  employed  in  cutting  the  bars,  the 
rest  of  us  were  stationed  as  watchers  round  the 
room  to  observe  the  least  movement,  and  give 
timely  warning  of  the  minutest  sound.  One 
of  our  number  was  placed  by  the  window, 
14 


■I  !'i 


HI  IP 


144 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


I 


W 


I  ill 


!■  I 


next  to  the  sentinel  in  the  yard,  having  a  string 
in  his  hand,  attached   to  one  of  the  old  man^s 
great  toes,  which  in  case  of  alarm,  was  to  bo 
pulled  as  a  signal  for  him  to  desist  from  his  la- 
bor.    This,  however,  he  soon   had  tied  round 
his  ancle  instead  of  his  toe,  for  one  of  us  hear- 
ing  some  sound  one  night,  gave  the  old  man's 
toe  such  an  unpleasant  jirk  as  almost  drew  him 
from  his   post,  and  made  him  curse  roundly  for 
the  suffering  it   occasioned.     While  our  plan 
was  in  rapid  progress  we  were  interrupted  by 
an  addition  of  one  to  our  number  ;  as  he  was  a 
young  and  inexperienced  boy,  and  confined  for 
one  month  only,  we  thought  it  best  to  desist  un- 
til his  liberation,  for  fear  he  should  betray   us. 
But  by  a  casualty  he  discovered  our  design  ; 
and  having  frightened  him   half  to   death,  and 
bound  him  by  a  solemn  oath  not  to  divulge,  wo 
proceeded  on  our  work.      At  length  we  had  so 
far  succeeded,  that  another  night  would   have 
effected  our  escape  ;  as  might  be  expected  our 
joy  was  great  at  the  prospect  of  speedy  liberty : 
we  fancied  our  troubles  and  sorrows  were  near 
to  an  end.     Under  this  happy  feeling  we  pro- 
ceeded with  our  day's  labor,  (breaking  stones) 
with  cheerfulness,  little  suspecting  a  disappoint- 
ment.    About  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
we  heard  the  turnkey  enter  our  apartment  and 
order  every  one  out  of  the  room,  saying,  "  /  be- 
lieve some  of  you  are  adopting  some  measttre  for 
escape  ;  J  am  come  to  see  whether  it  is  so  or  noty 
He  began  by  examining  the  beds;  (we  had  then 
one  straw  bed  for  each  two)  on  coming  to  the 


'f- 


g  a  string 
old  man^s 
^as  to  bo 
tm  his  la' 
ied  round 
f  us  hear- 
old  man's 
drew  him 
[)undly  for 
our  plan 
rupted  by 
I  he  was  a 
>nfined  for 
desist  un- 
)etray   us. 
r  design  ; 
death,  and 
vulge,  wo 
we  had  so 
ould   have 
peeled  our 
dy  liberty : 
were  near 
ig  we  pro- 
ng stones) 
iisappoint- 
3  morning, 
tment  and 
ng,  "  /  be- 
easure  for 
so  or  not.^^ 
re  had  then 
ling  to  the 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


145 


old  man's  and  mine,  (we  were  comrados)  he 
found  our  saw  hid  among  the  straw.  He  next 
commenced  a  close  examiation  of  the  bars  and 
windows,  and  on  coming  to  the  one  in  which  the 
cut  was  made,  as  if  aware  that  was  the  place, 
he  paid  more  than  ordinary  attention,  and  not- 
withstanding the  cut  /as  carefuUv  filled  up 
with  charcoal  and  tallow,  he  soon  discovered 
it,  upon  which  he  exclaimed,  ^'  ah,  here  it  is !  1 
have  found  the  place  where  th^y  are  hreoldng 
away  .'"  Our  feelings  were  unutter  n>ly  pain- 
ful at  this  discover))  ;  we  looked  on  Jich  other 
with  sorrowful  hearts,  that  ou'  b opes  were  ihus 
once  more  blasted,  and  our  expe^tatibns  of  de- 
liverance from  our  misery  cut  off.  We  were 
soon  all  collected  togetner,  and  driven  like 
slaves  into  the  dungeon  ;  and  those  who  were 
suspected  as  the  worst,  were  immediately  put 
into  irons  :  among  whom  was  Mr.  Pireau  and 
myself,  as  they  supposed  us  to  be  the  ring  lead* 
ers  ;  and  when  the  keeper  made  the  affair  pub- 
lic, we  were  published  as  such,  although  in  re- 
ality, we  were  no  m«>re  deeply  involved  than 
the  rest.  After  remaining  for  a  number  of  days 
in  this  situation,  and  when  they  thought  we 
had  suffered  enr  ugh,  a  blacksmith  was  brought 
to  relieve  us  from  our  irons,  and  we  were  plac- 
ed back  into  our  old  abode,  viz.  the  noxious, 
unhealthy  room  facing  the  back  yard.  The 
old  man  however,  suffered  several  weeks  lon- 
ger than  the  rest,  through  the  cruelty  of  the 
blacksmith  ;  for  while  taking  off  our  irons,  he 
was  so  careless  as  to  strike  our  legs,  and  oth- 
14 


i>i 


1  •  ■ 

■  y* 

'  !  ..1 


Mif 


1'; 

1    I     l'    i 


146 


LIFE    OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


ii 


erwise  injure  us  by  his  brutality.  The  old 
man  loudly  complained  of  such  rough  treat- 
ment, and  besought  him  to  use  him  more  gent- 
ly ;  whereupon,  the  unfeeling  wretch  became 
more  careless,  and  the  old  man  still  complain- 
ing, he  refused  to  take  them  off  and  left  him  ; 
through  which  circumstance  he  wore  them  near- 
ly a  month  longer. 

I  had  now  spent  about  sixteen  months  in  my 
dreary  abode,  when  I  heard  that  my  regiment 
was  ordered  home,  and  had  arrived  at  Quebec 
for  the  purpose  of  embarking.  Upon  this  in- 
formation, I  fondly  indulged  a  delusive  hope 
that  I  shoi^ld  be  released  from  my  confinement, 
and  taken  back  to  my  regiment,  and  my 
COUNTRY,where  I  might  expect  a  discharge, 
through  the  influence  of  my  parents.  Being 
visited  almost  every  day  by  the  soldiers,  I 
made  every  possible  inquiry  respecting  the 
probabilities  of  my  future  fate,  but  could  learn 
nothing  satisfactory.  Desirous  of  improving 
my  opportunity,  1  petitioned  the  body  of  offi- 
cers, humbly  confessing  my  error,  and  solici- 
ting their  clemency  and  official  influence  in 
setting  me  at  liberty.  A  few  days  expired, 
and  Capt.  Pierce  came  to  visit  me,  and  ad  if  1 
had  not  suffered  half  enough,  he  began  to  curso 
?nd  sware  at  me,  like  a  man  void  of  compas- 
sion, on  account  of  my  crime.  His  unexpec- 
ted and  ungodly  treatment  struck  me  dumb,  so 
that  I  scarcely  said  ten  words  during  the  visit. 
He  told  me  the  officers  had  received  my  peti- 
tion, but  that  they  could  not  assist  me  ;   there- 


The  old 
vh  treat- 
ore  gent- 
becamo 
omplatn* 
efl  him  ; 
em  near- 

hs  in  m^ 
regiment 
Quebec 
i  this  in- 
ive  hope 
inement, 
and  my 
scharge, 

Being 
Idiers,  I 
ting  the 
ild  learn 
nproving 
of  offi- 
id  solici- 
ence  in 
expired; 
d  ad  if  I 
to  curso 
compas- 
mexpec- 
lumb,  so 
he  visit, 
my  peti- 

there- 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


147 


fore  I  must  be  content  to  wait  the  expiration 
of  my  term  of  imprisonment.  He  then  presen- 
ted me  with  a  dollar,  saying,  "  /  give  you  this 
that  you  may  apply  it  to  your  present  necessities,^^ 
Upon  this,  I  bowed  and  thanked  him  for  his 
kindness,  and  he  left  me.  1  could  not  help  re- 
garding this  gift  as  a  token  of  some  remain- 
ing tenderness,  from  one  whose  general  appear- 
ance and  manners,  bespoke  a  heart  impregna- 
ble to  human  suffering.  I  next  wrote  to  the 
Adjutant,  who  also  visited  me,  and  appeared  so 
kind  and  familiar,  that  I  was  freed  from  my 
embarrassment,  and  talked  freely  about  my 
views  and  feelings.  I  gave  him  to  understand 
I  had  been  informed,  that  in  consequence  of 
having  been  delivered  over  to  civil  power,  I 
was  no  longer  a  soldier,  as  that  act  had  absol- 
ved me  from  sustaining  any  other  relation,  save 
that  of  a  civilian,  and  that  as  my  discharge  had 
been  given  over  to  the  court  at  my  trial,  it 
must  be  given  me  at  the  end  of  my  term  of 
imprisonment.  He  told  me  I  was  not  dischar- 
ged, as  my  name  still  continued  on  the  military 
roll,  and  that  it  was  probable  I  should  eventual- 
ly be  joined  to  some  other  corps. 

This  information  tended  effectually  to  dis- 
courage me,  and  to  cut  off  almost  my  last  hope; 
for  I  saw  it  was  quite  probable,  I  should  be  tri- 
ed for  desertion,  after  my  imprisonment,  and 
perhaps  be  transported  for  life  in  some  con- 
demned corps.  A  few  days  previous  to  the 
embarkation  of  the  regiment,  I  wrote  to  Col- 
9nel  R.  requesting  an  interview,  (in  conse- 
14* 


f 


ii '  n 

■:     •  I     i 

1  ■■■'^.. 


;sn 


k 


ilk 


l^»:v 


148 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


t      ■ 


I'i 


'il! 


:     ;. 


^-    t 


quence  of  the  death  of  Col.  Andrews,  who  di- 
ed in  Kingston,  this  officer  was  now  comman- 
der of  the  regiment)  he  came,  and  to  him  I 
humbly  confessed  my  error,  and  implored  his 
influence  to  effect  my  release  from  prison  and 
restoration  to  the  regiment.  In  answer,  he  said 
his  influence  could  do  me  no  good,  as  he  could 
not  procure  my  release  ;  if  he  could,  it  would 
afford  him  pleasure  to  do  it.  He  expressed 
his  sorrow  at  seeing  my  situation,  and  said  he 
hoped  it  would  end  in  my  good  ;  I  next  asked 
him  about  my  discharge  ;  he  said  I  was  still  a 
soldier,  but  not  under  their  command,  in  con- 
sequence of  which,  they  must  leave  me  behind, 
the  governor  having  power  to  do  as  his  wisdom 
should  direct  after  my  release.  From  this  I 
concluded  that  my  days  of  happiness  were  past 
and  that  I  was  doomed  to  sorrow  and  suffering 
during  the  rest  of  my  life.  Before  the  regi- 
ment left  Quebec,  all  the  foreigners  were  dis- 
charged, so  that  they  might  have  none  but 
British  subjects  under  their  command  ;  these 
discharged  soldiers  rendered  me  some  impor- 
tant relief  by  their  generosity  ;  for  which  may 
they  be  rewarded  in  heaven  ! 

Having  failed  in  every  attempt  we  had  yet 
made,  our  hearts  were  sunken,  and  we  were 
therefore  miserable  and  unhappy,  but  still  desir- 
ous of  improving  every  opportunity,  in  which 
we  could  discover  any  hope  of  success  :  we 
each  seperatley  joined  to  watch  for  our  own  re- 
lief. Having  now  only  one  alternative,  we 
thought  of  improving  that  in  hopes  of  gaining 


I 


I 


who  di- 
omman* 
him  I 
red  his 
ison  and 
he  said 
le  could 
t   would 
pressed 
said  he 
xt  asked 
s  still  a 
in  con- 
behind, 
wisdom 
)m  this  I 
ere  past 
suffering 
the  regi- 
i^ere  dis- 
ione  but 
I  ;  these 
J  impor- 
ich  may 

lad  yet 
ive  were 
ill  desir- 
n  which 
3ss  :  we 
own  re-? 
ive,  we 
gaining 


.! 


r 


MFE  OF  W.  B.  LIOIITOPS. 


149 


■Mi 


our  release,  which  was  to  petition  to  the  gov- 
ernor, and  humbly  implore  His  Excellency's 
clemency  in  our  behalf  ;  but  of  all  the  number 
of  petitions  we  sent,  we  received  no  answer  or 
assistance.  Thinking  we  had  now  exhausted 
every  means  within  our  power  to  gain  our  lib- 
erty, or  any  relief  from  our  misery,  we  delist- 
ed from  all  further  efforts  and  submitted  our- 
selves as  patiently  as  we  could  to  our  wretched 
and  miserable  fate.  Hut  we  had  not  been  long 
in  this  state  of  gloomy  despair  before  our  hopes 
were  again  lit  up  far  brighter  than  evsr,  inso- 
much; that  it  exhilerated  our  feeble  strength, 
and  made  us  think  without  a  doubt  our  present 
troubles  and  sorrows  were  near  an  end.  'J'he 
circumstance  was  as  follows.  A  ship  of  the 
line  had  arrived  in  the  harbor,  the  officers  of 
which  visited  the  prison  for  the  purpose  of  ob- 
taining some  able  bodied  men  to  go  on  board 
for  the  service.  The  keepers  of  the  prison 
permitted  us  all  into  their  presence,  when  they 
asked  us  if  we  were  willing  to  volunteer  to  go 
on  board  a  man  of  war,  to  which  we  all  answer- 
ed in  the  affirmative.  They  then  proceeded  to 
take  down  our  names,  &c.  telling  us  they 
should  send  for  us  in  a  few  days.  But  alas  ! 
our  hopes  were  soon  disappointed  in  hearing 
that  they  had  sailed  : — why  or  wherefore  they 
did  not  take  us  wc  were  never  informed. 

At  length  I  obtained  the  confidence  of  my 
keepers,  who  were  so  kind  as  to  relieve  me 
from  my  continemei  i.  by  taking  me  to  act  as 
waiter  for  a  gentleman  confined  for  debt,  which 


u 


;  4: 


Ml! 


't  ;■■ 


•ill 

,■^| 
■:.f 

'  ■  if 


u 


m 


iliil: 


Ut 


i  .'I 

I 


I 


ll    IP    il 


IIT" 


150 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


'.1  :J 


service  procured  me  the  liberty  of  the  yard, 
though  I  was  still  shut  u^^  in  my  room  at  night. 
In  the  mean  time  the  prisoners  contrived  anoth- 
er plan  to  attempt  an  escape,  and  notwitstand- 
ing  their  former  ill  success  determined  to  pros- 
ecute it.  The  plan  was  at  once  hazardous  and 
cunning  ;  it  was  to  descent  the  draught  of  the 
privy,  and  follow  up  the  channel,  and  coming 
under  the  public  street,  to  cut  a  hole  through, 
and  escape.  In  taking  this  course,  we  had  to 
act  with  great  caution,  as  we  had  to  pass  under 
several  draughts,  directly  by  the  gaoler's  apart- 
ment ;  hence,  if  any  had  been  visiting  those 
places,  we  must  inevitably  have  been  discover- 
ed by  our  lights.  As  I  had  the  privilege  of 
being  out  of  my  room  every  day,  the  prisoners 
depended  on  me  to  procure  them  a  supply  of 
candles  to  aid  them  in  carrying  on  the  scheme, 
which  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  do,  as  I  had 
then  a  few  pence  by  me,  and  being  more  will- 
ing to  support  them  in  their  plan,  I  denied  my-, 
self  of  the  relief  and  comfort  it  would  otherwise 
have  afforded,  and  bought  of  the  gaoler  (as  he 
kept  a  small  store  in  the  prison)  all  the  lights 
necessary  for  the  accomplishment  of  their  ob- 
ject. To  form  come  idea  of  the  practicability 
of  the  plan,  Mr.  Pireau  o^«>  id  to  decend  and 
reconnoiter,  and  ascertain  the  difficulties  to  be 
surmounted.  Accordingly  a  strong  rope  was 
procured,  and  he,  taking  a  firm  grasp  of  the 
end,  was  gradually  lowered  down  to  the  bottom 
of  the  draught,  though  with  much  inconveni- 
ence on  account  of  the  narrow  aperture.     The 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


151 


the  yard, 

I  at  night. 

'ed  anoth- 

twitstand- 

i  to  pro8- 

rdous  and 

ght  of  the 

I  conning 

through^ 

/e  had  to 

ass  under 

»r's  apart- 

ing  those 

discover- 

vilege  of 

prisoners 

supply  of 

5  scheme, 

as  I  had 

nore  will-* 

snied  my-. 

otherwise 

er  (as  he 

he  lights 

heir  ob- 

ticability 

end  and 

les  to  be 

•ope  was 

p  of  the 

e  bottom 

conveni- 

•e.     Th9 


^^otd  fox^^  soon  returned,  and  shaking  the  rope, 
was  drawn  up  in  triumph  ;  he  declared  nothing 
could  be  more  encouraging,  as  there  was  but 
one  obstacle  in  the  way,  which  was  an  iron 
grating  formed  of  single  bars  directly  under  the 
wall  of  the  prison  yard  ;  one  of  which,  he  said, 
must  be  cut  away  in  order  to  allow  us  to  get 
under  the  street.  He  jocosely  observed,  that 
of  all  the  ways  he  had  been  in  his  life,  that  was 
the  most  foul  and  offensive  ;  and  indeed  well  it 
might  be,  as  it  was  the  common  receptacle  of 
ill  the  prison  filth,  &c.  Materials  were  soon 
i>rocured  for  the  purpose  of  cutting  the  bar, 
which  the  old  man  soon  effected.  Desirous  to 
know  something  about  the  prospect  before  us, 
and  anxious  to  afford  some  assistance,  in  com- 
pany with  another  prisoner,  I  descended,  and 
havmg  spent  a  short  time  in  examining  the 
point  of  attack,  returned  and  reported  my  opin- 
ion that  it  was  practicable. 

It  was  now  agreed  that  all  should  descend, 
as  we  did  not  intend  making  the  hole  until  we 
were  all  ready  for  a  pop-out.  One  individual 
declined  accompanying  us,  as  his  health  was 
very  feeble,  and  his  time  of  imprisonment  was 
nearly  expired  ;  he  promised,  however,  to  re- 
main in  his  bed,  until  the  turnkey  should  come 
^o  bring  in  the  wood  for  our  fire  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  that  upon  discovery  of  our  absence,  he 
would  affect  entire  ignorance.  Satisfied  with 
this  promise,  one  evening  afler  the  turnkey  had 
gone  his  rounds  at  nine  o'clock,  we  descended, 
nine  of  us  in  number,  and   proceeded  up  the 


I  i1 

'  U 

.  i  I 

■  III 

■J    :',  I 


r 


152 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


■t,. 


ll'V 


channel.  In  coming  to  the  narrow  places  be- 
tween the  draughts,  we  experienced  great  dif^ 
ficulty,  as  n  great  rain,  which  had  recently  fal- 
len had  filled  up  the  channel,  so  that  crawlinff 
as  we  were  obliged  to  do,  on  our  hands  ana 
knees,  we  were  in  danger  of  suffocationi  and 
with  all  our  efforts  we  could  but  just  keep  our 
heads  above  the  rapid  current  of  filthy  water 
The  prisoners  were  sadly  disappointed  at 
having  to  endure  such  troubles,  for  they  had 
expected  to  be  able  to  walk  ;3rect,  and  without 
difficulty  ;  they  conseqently  began  to  blame 
and  censure  us  most  blasphemously  for  having 
brought  them  into  such  a  filthy  hole.  Some 
were  so  unfortunate  as  to  drown  their  lights  and 
were  consequently  involved  in  darkness,  which 
80  discouraged  them,  that  they  would  have  turn- 
ed  and  gone  back,  but  the  channel  was  too  nar- 
row to  afford  them  that  privilege  ;  they  were 
therefore  obliged  to  go  ahead.  The  old  man, 
who  was  forward,  and  who  kept  his  light  burn- 
ing, endeavored  to  encourage  the  rest  behind 
him,  and  in  return  for  his  courage,  would  re- 
ceive oaths  and  curses.  Indeed,  the  scene  was 
one  of  the  most  ludicrous  that  could  well  be 
imagined  :  nor  could  I  refrain  from  laughing 
heartily,  to  hear  the  prisoners  bewailing  their 
calamity  as  they  toiled  up  the  way  upon  their 
hands  and  knees.  We  could  not  possibly  avoid 
getting  wet  all  over  ;  this  we  had  in  a  measure 
expected  ;  and  had  consequently  put  on  our 
poorest  articles  of  clothing,  carrying  the  rest 
in  our  bundles  for  a  change.    But  notwithstand- 


LIFE/)F   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


153 


>lace8  be- 
great  dif- 
cently  fal- 
t  crawlinff 
tiands  and 
ition,   and 
keep  our 
thy  water 
)ointed  at 
they  had 
id  without 
to  blame 
for  having 
le.     Some 
'  lights  and 
ess,  which 
have  turn- 
s  too  nar* 
hey   were 

old  man, 
ight  burn- 
;st  behind 
would  re- 
scene  was 
lid  well  be 

laughing 
ling  their 
upon  their 
ibiy  avoid 

measure 
it  on  our 
V  the  rest 
withstand- 


I 


ing  all  our  efforts,  our  bundles  became  as  wet 
as  ourselves,  as  we  were  unable  to  carry  them 
in  our   arms,  but  were  obliged  to  drag   them 
along  in  the  best  way  we  could.     The   place 
of  operation  was  more  spacious,  and  afforded 
us  a  little  relief  from  our  toil  and  danger;  there 
we  all  stopped,  expecting  in  a  few  moments  to 
breathe  a  purer  air,  and  to  enjoy  the  blessings 
of  liberty.     I  was  then  ordered  forward  to  as- 
sist the  old  man  in  preparing  the  excavation,  as 
only  two  of  us  could  labor  together.     After  la- 
boring some  time  without  the  least  sign  of  suc- 
cess,the  men  became  dissatisfied,and  impatient, 
when  the  following  conversation  took  place  : 
"  Well,  are  you  almost  ready  ?"    No,  was  our 
reply.     A  few  moments  passed,  and  they  in- 
quired more  earnestly  :    "  Have  you    got  the 
hole   made  ?"     We  answered  no.     At  which 
they   became   more  uneasy  ;   some  swore,  and 
others  blackguarded  us  f<3r  being  lazy.     Again 
they  exclaimed,    "  Is  the  hole   made  now  ?" 
Again  we  answered  no  :     "  Well  what  is   the 
matter,  don't  you  do  any  thing  ?"     Yes  !   we 
shall   get  through  by  and  by,  only   keep  still. 
They  now  began  praising  us  until  their  fit  of 
impatience  came  upon  them,  and  they  inquired 
again,halloo  there,  old  fox,what  are  you  about  ? 
Is  the  hole  made  now  ?     We  answered  no,  and 
we  are  afraid  we  shall  not  be  able  to  accom- 
plish much,  the  water   is  so   high,  besides  we 
must  have  something  with  which  to  dig  into  the 
wall.     It  may  be  observed  here,  that  we  had  no 
implement  to  aid  us  but  the  bar^  we  had  cut 


m 


Hl'il 


I.*  I 

^1 


M 


IB 


i  i 


154 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LTGIITON. 


out  of  the  grating,  and  the  channel  being  wal- 
led on  each  side,  and  overlaid  with  large  tim- 
bers, we  could  not  make  the  least  impression. 
The  prisoners  again  demanded  if  we  were  ready 
to  go  out  ;  to  which  we  replied,  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  succeed  that  night ;  and  it  was  best  for 
us  to  return  to  our  room,  until  the  water  should 
subside,  and  we  be  able  to  procure  some  arti- 
cle to  aid  us  in  forcing  away  the  stones  and 
timbers. 

Now  commenced  a  scene  the  most  infamous 
and  diabolical  I  ever  witnessed  in  my  life.  On 
account  of  our  ill  success,  the  prisoners  became 
extremely  enraged,  and  cursed  the  old  man  and 
myself  for  having  brought  them  down  into  that 
wretched  filthy  hole.  They  set  up  a  most 
hideous  yell  and  pronounced  curses  enough 
had  they  been  heard,  to  have  sunk  them  and 
the  draught  into  perdition.  For  my  own  part, 
I  heartily  wished  their  heads  fast  stuck  in  the 
filth,  through  which  they  were  struggling,  until 
they  learnt  how  to  be  silent.  After  regaining 
the  draught,  we  hailed  the  man,  who  remained 
in  the  room,  who  lowered  the  rope,  and  drew 
up  the  lightest  of  us,  and  then  one  after  the 
other,  we  ascended  to  our  abode,  wet  and  mis- 
erable, where  we  had  to  cleanse,  and  hang  up 
our  clothes  to  be  put  on  wet  in  the  morning.  It 
was  well  for  us  that  the  individual,  who  was 
our  main  help  in  getting  back  into  the  room,  re- 
mained there,  or  we  must  have  suffered,  if  not 
some  of  us  perished  before  morning. 

After  wringing  out  my  clothes,  I  retired  to 


fjing  wal- 
arge  tim- 
ipression. 
ere  readv 

m 

3  impossi- 
,s  best  for 
;er  should 
iome  arti- 
ones   and 

;  infamous 
life.     On 
s  became 
man  and 
[  into  that 
3   a  most 
s  enough 
hem  and 
own  part, 
ck  in  the 
ing,  until 
egaining 
emained 
and  drew 
after  the 
and  mis- 
hang  up 
ling.  It 
who  was 
'oom,  re- 
(d,  if  not 

2tired  to 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


155 


bed  \  where,  having  nothing  but  a  blanket  to 
cover  me,  I  passed  the  night,  cold  and  shiver- 
ing. In  the  morning,  I  arose  and  passed  to 
my  duty  without  any  remark  made  about  my 
appearance,  and  probably  our  attempt  would 
have  remained  undiscovered,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  treachery  of  one  of  our  number,  who, 
regardless  of  the  solemn  oath  he  had  taken, 
revealed  the  whole  circumstance  to  the  gaoler, 
and  turnkey,  a  short  time  after  I  had  left  the 
room  to  wait  as  usual  on  the  gentleman  before 
mentioned.  No  sooner  were  they  informed  of 
the  fact  than  they  drove  us  all  down  into  the 
dungeon,  where  they  examined  us,  to  ascertain 
who  were  the  instigators  and  ringleaders  of 
the  plot.  As  the  old  man  and  myself  were 
found  guilty  in  the  former  case,  so  were  we 
condemned  as  the  instigators  of  this  plan,  and 
were  consequently  loaded  heavily  with  irons. 

While  in  this  helpless  situation,  two  of  the 
prisoners  conceiving  me  to  be  the  cause  of  their 
being  immersed  in  the  dungeon,  afflicted  me 
with  the  most  violent  abuse,  and  even  robbed 
me  of  my  food.  However,  the  night  relieved 
me  from  the  company  of  these  ungrateful 
wretches,  as  they  were  taken  back  to  their 
room,  while  my  comrade  and  myself  were  left 
inmates  of  the  dark,  miserable  hole  ;  but  it 
seemed  less  filthy  after  the  others  had  been  re- 
moved. 

As  our  irons  were  very  troublesome,  my  old 
comrade,  with  the  help  of  a  piece  of  iron,  made 
out  to  cut  his  in  such  a  way,  that  he  could  put 
15 


I   ri 


M 


156 


LIPK    OF    W.    B.    LIGHTON. 


them  off  and  on  at  pleasure  ;  so  that  during  the 
day  he  would  walk  about  the  dungeon  without 
them,  and  sleep  with  them  off  at  night  ;  but  on 
the  approach  of  the  turnkey,  would  put  them 
on  again  ;  when  one  day  the  turnkey  surprised 
him  before  he  had  time  to  get  them  on,  they 
wero  immediately  riveted  on  more  firmly  than 
ever. 

Upon  being  restored  back  to  my  room,  I  re- 
solved v/ithin  myself,  that  I  would  never  make 
another  attempt  to  escape  in  company  with  oth- 
ers, inasmuch,  as  there  were  some,  who  would 
be  sure  to  betray,  either  from  fear,  or  desire  to 
gain  the  approbation  and  favor  of  the  officers  of 
the  prison.     It  was  only  a  few  days  af\er  I  had 
been  placed  back  in  my  room,  that    ome  of  tho 
prisoners  made  another  attempt  to  escape  by 
the  same  way.     The  turnkey  had  just  gone  his 
round,  when  OiV?  of  them  descended  the  draught 
to  examine  the  grating,  &.c.  when,  in  less  than 
five  minutes,  the   keepers  sprang  in  suddenly, 
ana  began   their    inquiries,    by   asking   for  old 
Mr.  P.  and  myself.     Happily  we  were  in  bed; 
but  although  we  informed  them  of  the  fact,they 
could    hardly  be   persuaded  that  it  was  not  us, 
who  had  descended  the  draught,  until  the  gaol- 
er's wife  came  to  our  bed  and  assured  them  we 
were  indeed  there.     She  appeared  to  be  much 
concerned  about  us,  and  would  not  be  satisfied 
with  our  answers  ;  but  as  the  light  was   in  the 
hands  of  the  turnkey,  in  another  part  of  the 
room,  she  felt  the  outside  of  the  bed  in  order  to 
assure  herself  that  we  were  there.     She  a^ked 


■«?■ 


N. 


LIFE  OV  W.  B*  LIGHTON. 


157 


during  tho 
)n  without 
it  ;  but  on 
1  put  them 
r  surprised 
n  on,  they 
firmly  than 

room,  I  re- 
lever  make 
y  with  oth- 
who  would 
>r  desire  to 
!  officers  of 
after  I  had 
ome  of  tho 
escape  by 
St  gone  his 
ihe  draught 
n  less  than 
1  suddenly, 
ing  for  old 
ere  in  bed; 
le  fact, they 
was  not  us, 
il  the  gaol- 
ed them  we 
o  be  much 
be  satisfied 
was   in  the 
>art  of  the 
in  order  to 
She  a!=ked 


us  if  we  had  any  hand  in  breaking  out ;  we  tuld 
her  no,  nor  we  never  meant  to  be  guilty  of  such 
a  crime  again,  so  long  as  we  remained  in  prison. 

The  poor  fellow  who  had  descended,  was 
soon  taken  out  through  a  trap-door,  when  the 
turnkey  heat  him  most  shamefully  with  a  cudg- 
el, and  in  a  cruel  manner  drove  him  down  to 
the  dungeon,  where  he  was  heavily  ironed,  and 
kept  for  a  considerable  time.  This  circum- 
stance had  such  an  effect  on  the  prisoners  that 
they  abandoned  all  idea  of  liberation  until  their 
time  should  bo  expired. 

As  I  had  resolved  to  adopt  the  same  resolu- 
tion, I  chought  it  best,  while  shut  up  from  ac- 
tive life,  to  devote  myself  to  the  improvement 
of  my  mind,  which  would  tend  to  prepare  me 
for  future  happiness.  My  means  of  improve- 
ment were  very  small ;  I  had  access  to  but  very 
few  books  ;  however,  I  strove  to  improve  some- 
what in  writing,  arithmetic  and  drawing  ;  to 
which  studies  I  devoted  every  moment  of  lei- 
sure I  possessed.  I  soon  found  this  course  ef- 
ficient to  relieve  rne  of  that  insufferable  prison 
melancholy,  of  which  I  had  heretofore  been  the 
unhappy  subject,  and  it  proved  ultimately  to 
pave  the  way  for  the  unexpected  and  glorious 
change  I  subsequently  experienced. 

About  this  time  it  happened,  that  a  young 
Englishman  was  committed  to  our  prison  for  a 
petty  crime.  He  was  well  educated,  and  pos- 
sessed a  tenderness  of  manner,  which  rendered 
him  beloved  by  the  prisoners.  By  a  long  train 
of  misfortunes  he   had  become  reduced  to  the 


r'^ 


158 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


1 1 


m^ 


i  i' 


lowest  state  of  degradation  ;  when,  for  the 
ffratification  of  his  sinful,  and  intemperate  hab- 
its, he  committed  the  act  which  brought  him 
into  prison.  Young  reader,  what  thmk  you 
was  the  first  cause  of  this  young  man's  down- 
fall, and  wretchedness — O  !  it  was  cruel  diso- 
bedience to  dear  and  affectionate  PARENTS. 
Nor  was  he  the  only  instance  among  the  many 
that  were  under  confinement  ;  some  indeed, 
could  date  their  whole  sufferings  from  the  crime 
above  mentioned.  O  then,  beware  !  refrain 
from  the  accursed  evil,  for  it  leads  to  every  spe- 
cies of  wretchedness,  and  not  unfrequently  to 
a  deplorable  and  untimely  death.  Hear  your 
duty  from  the  mouth  of  God  upon  this  subject. 
^^ Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother  ;  Oiat  thy 
days  may  be  long  upon  the  land  which  the  Lord 
thy  God  giveth  thee.^^ 

But  to  proceed  with  my  narrative  :  He  had 
not  been  here  long,  before  we  formed  the  most 
intimate  friendship,  and  as  he  loved  reading,  he 
joined  with  me  in  my  studies,  and  read  every 
book  which  he  could  obtain.  Amonff  many  we 
borrowed,  was  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  I'rogress  ; 
a  book  to  which  we  were  both  entire  strangers, 
as  well  as  to  the  matter  it  contained.  As  my 
young  friend  read,  I  used  to  sit  and  listen  ;  be 
had  not  read  far  before  I  became  truly  enamor- 
ed with  the  fascinating  manner  of  the  author. 
In  describing  the  Pilgrim's  manner  of  leaving 
the  city  of  destruction  (his  native  home)  and 
pursuing  his  heavenly  journey  through  trials 
and  troubles,  with  the  most  minute  circumspec- 


LIFE    OF    W.    11.    IJGIITON. 


159 


n,  for  the 
aerate  hab- 
ou^ht  him 
think  you 
in's  down- 
cruel  diso- 
LRENTS. 
;  the  many 
16  indeed^ 
I  the  crime 
i !  refrain 
every  spe- 
quently  to 
iear  your 
is  subject. 
;  Uiat  thy 
the  Lord 

He  had 
I  the  most 
mding,  he 
sad  every 
many  we 
Vogress  ; 
trangers, 
As  my 
sten  ;  he 

enamor- 
e  author, 
f  leaving 
>me)  and 

h  trials 
iumspec- 


tion,  I  could  not   help    feeling    convinced   that 
that  was  the  only  way  to  heaven  and  happiness; 
and  I  felt  as  if  1  must  pass  through  the  laver  of 
regeneration  and  become  spiritually  united   to 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  and  by  his 
grace  become  obedient,  in  order  to  gain  "  ever- 
lasting life  ;"  and  in  reading  his  account  of  the 
pilgrim's  losing    his   burden  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross,!  could  not  but  desire  a  similar  happiness, 
and   wished   that   God  would  be  pleased  to  re- 
move  the   burden  of  my  sins,  as  I  felt  the  im- 
portance and  necessity  of  such  a  work.     After 
perusing  this  work  and  contemplating  the  hap- 
py and   triumphant  end  of  the  way  worn   pil- 
grim, I   became   the  subject  of  serious  reflec- 
tions, which   produced  the  deepest  convictions 
for  sin.     At  length  Divine  Providence  opened 
the  way  for  the  bringing  about  his  merciful  de- 
signs towards  me.      We  were  visited  by  a  Mr. 
Archibald,  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  and  anoth- 
er gentleman,  whose  name  I  have  forgotten,  an 
officer   belonging   to  the  Royal  Engineer  De- 
partment.   These  gentlemen  possessed  a  sweet- 
ness of  disposition,  that  I  have  never  found  ex- 
cept in  those  who  have  the  mind  of  their  heav- 
enly  master   Jesus   Christ.     Their  piety  was 
deep  and  fervent  :  it  shone  conspicuous  in  their 
deportment,  and  by  their  conversation  and  man- 
ner it  was  evident  they  had  been  with  Jesus. 

Mr.  A.  used  to  take  me  aside,  and  with  much 

affection  of  manner  strive  to  impress  my  mind 

with  the  importance  of  a  change  of  heart.     He 

faithfully  warned  me  of  my  danger,  he  told  me 

16* 


'I 


•I 


160 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


1 1'  I 


I  was  a  sinner,  at  an  almost  infinite  distance 
from  God,  and  that  if  I  would  be  reconciled,  I 
must  take  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  for  my  Saviour, 
and  repent  of  all  my  sins .  But  I  felt  like  most 
sinners,  though  under  deep  convictions,  as  if  I 
could  not  attend  to  his  instructions  thciiy  but 
thought  I  would  after  I  was  liberated,  as  at 
present  I  was  surrounded   by  what  might  em- 

fhatically  be  called  the  devils  oxen  children,  who 
thought  would  ridicule  me  if  I  became  relig- 
ious. Thus  did  I,  for  a  long  time,  drown  my 
tender  feelin.q;s,  and  grieve  the  Holy  Spirit;  but 
still  I  could  not  rest,  for  although  1  could  resist 
and  grieve  the  Spirit,  I  could  not  resist  convic- 
tion ;  it  would  follow  me  in  spite  of  all  that  I 
could  do. 

One  afternoon  I  attended  the  prison  chapel, 
when  we  were  addressed  by  a  perfect  stranger. 
He  was  an  elderly  gentleman  ;  his  dress  was 
that  of  an  old  fashioned  Methodist  preacher, 
such  as  I  had  seen  worn  in  England  ;  his  pe- 
culiar appearance  ciltracted  my  attention,  and 
prepared  me  to  hear  with  profit.  His  prayer 
was  fervent  and  powerful,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
he  would  not  let  go  of  heaven,  until  God  had 
blessed  him,  and  his  suffering  auditory.  While 
praying  for  the  prisoners,  he  seemed  to  carry 
my  peculiar  case  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  I 
felt  my  convictions  increase  so  powerfully,  that 
I  should  have  been  pleased  could  I  have  got 
away. 

In  his  sermon,  he  showed  Christ  to  be  the 
great  sacrifice  for  sin  ;   ho  pointed  out  the  sin- 


f. 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


161 


te  distance 
conciled,  I 
ly  Saviour, 
t  like  most 
ns,  as  if  I 
iheny   but 
ted,  as  at 
might  em- 
Wren,  who 
ime  relig- 
Irown  my 
Spirit;  but 
>uld  resist 
st  convic- 
all  that  I 

in  chapel, 

stranger. 

^ress  was 

preacher, 

his  pe- 
tion,  and 
is  prayer 
ed  as  if 
God  had 

While 

to  carry 

e,  and  I 

illy,  that 

lave  got 

3  be  the 
the  sin- 


i 


fulness  of  sin,  and  spake  of  its  efiects  in  the 
inost  affecting  and  alarming  manner.  He  then 
Addressed  himself  to  the  prisoners,  and  showed 
lis  that  all  our  sufferings,  and  loss  of  happiness 
had  been  occasioned  by  sin,  and  then  affection- 
ately invited  us  to  Christ  ;  urging  the  most 
weighty  motives  to  repentance  and  faith,  and 
pointing  out  their  blessed  effects.  I  could 
not  resist  the  eloquence  of  his  pleadings  ;  my 
heart  was  melted,  so  that  I  was  barely  able  to 
refrain  from  weeping. 

At  the  close  of  the  meeting,  I  went  to  the 
venerable  preacher,  and  taking  him  aside,  said 
to  him.  Sir,  I  am  desirous  to  become  a  better 
man  ;  I  wish  to  be  pious  ;  I  am  sensible  I  have 
hitherto  lived  an  enemy  to  God  ;  I  ask  your 
council  and  your  prayers,  that  your  labor  may 
not  be  lost  upon  me,  when  I  could  refrain  no 
longer  from  giving  vent  to  my  feelings  in  a 
flood  of  tears.  With  the  deepest  affection  he 
took  me  by  the  hand,  and  earnestly  entreated 
me  not  to  stifle  my  good  impressions,  but  sub- 
mit to  them,  until  they  should  be  succeeded  by 
an  evidence,  that  I  wat  born  of  God  ;  adding, 
you  must  pray  for  mercy  and  pardon  ;  believe 
in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ;  confess  your  sins  ; 
forsake  all  your  evil  doings,  and  he  will  receive 
>->u.  I  said,  I  could  not  pray,  as  I  did  not 
know  how.  Said  he,  you  can  pray  the  Lord's 
Prayer  :  I  answered,  I  could,  as  I  was  taught 
it  by  my  parents  when  a  child.  He  bid  me  use 
that,  and  advised  me  to  make  it  jmy  models  in 
all  my  addresses  to  the  throne  of  grace.      He 


iii, 


I 


i 


»"(<i 


ill 


162 


LIFE    OF    W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


mm 


i;i 


'1   1 


concluded  by  offering  some  advice  about  my 
future  conduct,  and  wishing  that  1  might  enjoy 
the  full  fruition  of  God's  love,  left  me  to  my  re- 
flections. 

I  was  now  in  the  deepest  distress  of  mind 
imaginable.  I  saw  that  God's  holy  law  was 
against  me,  and  seemed  to  sink  under  an  al- 
most insupportable  load  of  guilt.  To  enhance 
my  grief,  I  thought  I  should  now,  like  Sampson, 
have  to  make  sport  for  the  Philistines  ;  for  my 
companions  were  bitterly  opposed  to  religion. 
In  this  state  of  mind  I  remained  for  some  time, 
speaking  to  none  about  my  feelings,  except  Mr. 
A.,  to  whom  I  circumstantially  related  all  that 
passed.  He  administered  the  best  possible  ad- 
vice, and  procured  me  books,  suited  to  my  con- 
dition. One  of  these  was  speedily  blest  to  my 
advantage.  It  was  called  the  ^'  Prodis^aPs 
Life,^^  and  was  the  means  of  so  increasing  my 
conviction  that  I  had  little  rest,  day  or  night. 

During  the  time  I  was  in  this  state  of  mind,  I 
generally  was  alone  ;  either  reading,  praying, 
or  walking  the  room  in  meditation.  On  one 
occasion,  thoughtlessly  joining  to  walk  the 
room  with  those  sons  of  Belial,  they  began  to 
talk  of  what  they  would  do  after  they  were  re- 
leased, and  wanted  to  know  if  I  would  not  join 
them  in  their  wicked  plans  :  as  they  talked, 
their  feelings  waxed  hotter  and  hotter,  until 
they  seemed  ripe  for  the  perpetration  of  their 
diabolical  schemes  that  very  moment.  Sud- 
denly, I  paused,  and  had  such  an  overwhelm- 
ing view  of  my  sinfulness,  and  danger,  that   I 


1  •? 


LIFE  OF  VV.  B.  LIGHTON. 


163 


ibout  my 
ght  enjoy 
to  my  re- 

!  of  mind 
law  was 
er  an  al- 
►  enhance 
Sampson, 
J  ;  for  my 
•  religion. 
)me  time, 
xept  Mr. 
d  all  that 
3sible  ad- 
my  con- 
es t  to  my 

asing  my 
night, 
f  mind,  I 
praying. 

On  one 
kvalk  the 
began  to 
were  re- 
not  join 
y  talked, 
er,  until 

of  their 
t .  Sud- 
rwhelm- 
\  that  I 


was  convinced  I  must  either  turn  at  once  to  God^ 
or  be  lost  forever.  Still  I  sought  for  an  ex- 
cuse, but  my  oppression  increased  ;  I  felt  that 
I  must  yield  that  moment,  or  be  damned.  It 
seemed  as  if  hell  was  open  before  me,  ready 
to  swallow  me  up,  and  it  appeared  to  me  as  if 
in  five  minutes  more  I  should  be  there,  wailing 
with  the  lost. 

Thus  overpowered  by  the  spirit  of  God,  I 
left  the  company  ;  retired  to  my  bedside,  fell 
on  my  knees,  my  sins  appearing  like  mountains, 
rising  before  me,  where  I  prayed  earnestly  to 
God,  that  he  would  have  mercy  upon  my  soul. 
While  I  was  praying  one  of  the  company  came 
into  the  room.  It  being  dark,  he  stumbled  over 
my  feet,  which  led  him  to  exert  himself  with 
his  hands  to  prevent  a  fall ;  at  the  same  moment, 
beginning  to  speak  ;  but  he  stopped  short,  as 
soon  as  he  found  I  was  praying.  After  giving 
vent  to  my  soul  in  prayer,  I  felt  my  load  of 
guilt  removed  :  the  insupportable  burden  was 
gone  :  I  was  refreshed,  and  thought  I  could 
forever  travel  the  heavenly  journey  without 
growing  faint  or  weary.  I  arose  from  my 
knees  like  a  new  man  :  every  thing  around  me 
appeared  different.  Surely  it  was  a  new  crea- 
tion, by  the  grace  of  God,  even  the  transfor- 
mation of  my  soul  from  darkness  to  light,  from 
Satan  to  God.  I  was  the  possessor  of  new 
feelings  ;  my  soul  was  filled  with  the  love  of 
God  ;  I  loved  my  fellow  prisoners  though  they 
had  done  me  injury,  and  could  willingly  do  them 
good.     But  a  few  minutes  before,  Ifelt  as  on 


1, 
1 1 1 


mi 


.>iP 


i' 


4 


ii. 


li"  .' 


i'  ^ 


11 


I 


.1 


]  M  1; 


!•'*#!!     I 


iyf< 


164 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LTGIITON. 


the  verge  of  hell,  and  that  the  infiniteBeing  was 
displeased  with  me  :  now,  I  could  feel  that 
Heaven  smiled  propitiously,  and  owned  me  for 
an  heir  of  its  sacred  bliss.  O,  blessed  be  God, 
I  felt  redeemed  from  sin,  and  guilt,  despair,  and 
misery — death  and  hell.  The  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  was  my  advocate,  and  I  was  justified, 
and  pardoned  by  his  precious  blood.  I  was 
now  lost  to  the  world,  and  alive  only  to  praise 
and  thanksgiving.  1  walked  my  room  in  the 
dark  hour  of  night,  transported  with  the  light 
of  God's  countenance.     1  could  say, 

"  How  divinely  sweet  are  all  thy  ways. 
My  Boul  shall  sing  thy  wondVous  praise, 
The  loudest  notes  of  heavenly  joy, 
Shall  all  my  life,  my  powers  employ." 

And  again,  I  could  say  with  adoring  gratitude 
for  so  great  a  deliverance, 

"Where  shall  my  wondering  soul  begin  1 
How  shall  I  all  to  heaven  aspire  1 
A  slave  redeemed  from  death  and  sin  ! 
A  brand,  pluck *d  from  eternal  fire  ! 
How  shall  I  equal  triumphr^  raise. 
Or  sing  my  gre-t  deliverer's  praise  V* 

I  retired  to  bed  that  night  with  a  confidence 
that  whether  I  slept  the  sleep  of  death,  or  lived 
till  the  morning,  I  was  the  Lord's.  I  awoke 
full  of  rejoicing  in  the  morning  :  heaven  was 
my  all,  and  earth  appeared  a  dream.  My  soul 
was  happy  ;  truly  happy  ;  so  much  so,  that  it 
ceemed  as  if  the  sky  of  my  hope  would  never 
be  darkened. 

On  the  return  of  Mr.  A.  I  related  to  him  my 


IV. 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


165 


eBeing  was 
id  feel  that 
vned  me  for 
3ed  be  God, 
iespair,  and 
Lord  Jesus 
IS  justified, 
od.  I  was 
\y  to  praise 
room  in  the 
th  the  light 


> 


g  gratitude 


confidence 
th,  or  lived 

I  awoke 
?aven  was 

My  soul 
so,  that  it 
luld  never 

to  him  my 


feelings.  He  asked  me  many  questions,  and 
gave  me  much  comforting  advice,  with  a  prom- 
ise to  visit  me  every  week.  My  conversion 
had  a  favorable  impression  upon  my  fellow 
prisoners,  so  that  we  had  peace  generally. 
They  were  mostly  Catholics,  though  they  gave 
but  little  evidence  of  being  christians.  They 
were  saints,  or  sinners,  by  turns,  just  as  matters 
suited.  Before  their  priests,  they  would  con- 
fess ;  and  on  receiving  absolution,  feel  as  safe 
as  if  there  were  no  day  of  retribution,  or  no 
God  to  judge.  May  God  teach  the  reader  the 
religion  of  the  Bible,  and  save  him  from  such  a 
curse  as  Catholicism  ! 

In  this  steady  frame  of  mind,  I  enjoyed  my- 
self for  some  time,  when  some  of  the  prisoners 
commenced  a  system  of  persecution,  that  mar- 
red, for  a  short  season,  my  enjoyments.  I  re- 
ceived it  from  those  most  opposed  to  every 
thing  that  was  good,  which  is  generally  the 
case  with  those  hardened  in  sin  and  iniquity. 
Among  other  ways  these  sons  of  persecution 
and  folly  took  to  injure  me,  was  the  following. 
They  reported  to  the  turnkey,  that  I  had  con- 
spired to  mutinize — that  my  plan  was  to  arm 
myself  with  a  cudgel,  and  as  he  came  his  round 
at  nine  o'clock,  to  knock  him  down,  take  pos- 
session of  his  keys,  strip  him  of  his  clothes, 
and  put  them  on,  and  then  liberate  all  the  pris- 
oners, and  free  myself  from  confinement.  The 
turnkey,  imagining  that  there  might  be  some 
truth  in  this  ingenious  lio,  actually  prepared 
himself  for  the  onset^if  any  such  thing  should  be 


ri| 


1  ^* 


<  ','■.'  I 


,-11 


i;'i 


^<''i!! 


'  'iiiii  I 


n 


A     ■> 


If    », 


166 


LIFK  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


attempted.     When  the  hour  arrived,  he  came 
into  the  room,  and  inquired  for  me.     1  was  in 
the  apartment  where  my  bed  was,    quietly  en- 
gaged in  my  studies,   and  notwithstanding  my 
amicable  engagement,  he  thus  addressed  me  : 
"  I  understand,  Lighton,  you  are  calculating  tu 
mutiny — to  knock  me  down,  take  my  keys  and 
clothes,  and  escape  with  the  rest  of  the  prison- 
ers."    He  now  became  enraged,   and  swore 
like  a  maniac  :  holding  v:p  his  bunch  of  massive 
keys  in  my  face,  he  declared  he  would  beat  my 
brains  out  with  them,  if  I  dared  to  attempt  any 
such  thing.     I  was  so  surprised  at  this  unlock- 
ed for  address,   that  I  scarcely   knew  how  to 
speak  in  vindication  of  my  innocence.  At  length 
I  made  out  to  tell   him,  that   such   a  thought 
never  entered  my  head  ;  that  I  was  disposed  to 
be  quiet,  and  harmless,  and  should  continue  so, 
until  the  day  of  my  release.     This  plan  of  the 
devil  and  his  agents,  greatly  troubled  my  soul; 
but  by  Grod's  grace,  I  was  naabled  to  endure  it. 
Upon  mature  reflection,  the   turnkey  was  con- 
vinced that  the  report  of  the   prisoners  was  a 
lie,  got  up   only  to  injure  me  ;    so  that  I  was 
justified,  and  they,  in  turn,  condemned.     Thus 
the  devil  was  caught  in  his  own  snare.     The 
grace  of  God  which  I  had  obtained,  enabled  me 
to  indure  the  suftt rings  incident  to  my  situation, 
with  less  impatience,   and   consequently  freed 
me  from  much  uneasiness  and  inward  trouble . 
By  degrees  I  grew  bolder  in  recommending  re- 
ligion to  my  comrades,  and  as  I  often  interfered 
to  prevent  their  jars  and  quarrels,  they  distin- 


^■ym.. 


he  came 
I  was  in 

lietly  en- 
nding  my 
3sed  me  : 
Lilating  to 
keys  and 
le  prison- 
ad  swore 
f  massive 
I  beat  my 
empt  any 
3  unlook- 
'  how  to 
A.t  length 

thought 
sposed  t6 
itinue  so, 
m  of  the 
my  soul; 
sndure  it. 
yas  con- 
rs  was  a 
I  at  I  was 
Thus 
■e.  The 
ibled  me 
ituation, 
ly  freed 

trouble . 
iding  re- 
iterfered 
y  distin- 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


167 


guished  me  by  the  name  of  ^^ peace  maker. ^^ 
One  of  our  number,  whose  name  was  John 
Hart,  became  the  subject  of  the  most  powerful 
awakening,  from  the  following  circumstance. 
His  comrade,  whose  name  was  Robinson, (these 
were  the  persons  that  so  abused  me,  and  robbed 
me  of  my  food,  when  in  irons  in  the  dungeon) 
had  been  released  from  prison,  and  soon  afler, 
engaged  to  rob  a  house.  He  fell  from  the  roof, 
and  was  so  injured  that  he  died.  Hart,  on 
hearing  the  news,  was  filled  with  fear  and  con- 
sternation :  he  trembled  as  if  he  had  received 
his  death  warrant.  Such  was  the  horror  of  his 
soul  that  he  thought  he  was  dying  ;  and  reques- 
ted me  to  send  for  ]V!r.  A.  1  accordingly  wrote 
him  a  line,  but  before  he  arrived,  the  poor  fel- 
low had  in  some  measure,  recovered  from  his 
anguish.  He  promised,  however,  if  God  would 
spare  his  life,  he  would  live  better,  and  no  more 
do  as  he  had  done.  He  maintained  this  reso- 
lution a  few  days,  and  then  returned  to  a  course 
of  sin  and  forgetfulness  of  God,  and  I  am  sorry 
to  add,  that  aftar  his  dismission  from  prison,  he 
engaged  in  robbing  a  French  church,  and  fin- 
ished his  career  upon  the  gallows.  What  an 
awful  lesson  does  this  teach  us  !  Reader,  are 
you  grieving  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  by  which 
you  are  enlightened,  and  made  meet  for  the 
heavenly  kingdom  ?  O,  how  careful  should  we 
be  to  follow  its  sacred  teachings,  lest  we  grieve 
it  once  too  much,  and  then  lose  our  precious 
souls  ! 

Being   desirous  of  informing   my  parents  of 
16 


<■ ' 


1 1 


■ '  ■ 


,i'i. 


yii 


W 


n 


:>i 


1 1 


168 


i.irn  or  \r.  n.  lioiitox. 


< 

f        : 

I 

'■M„'h 

i 

■    ii '  riil 

^ 

(!:•  ^^: 

1' 

!, 

i 

ii  '1 ! 

1"          ; 

i  ii'S 


it 


t  I 


I 


my  situation,  and  tlio  happy  change  I  had  ex- 
perienced, I  wrote  thcni  a  letter,  informing 
them  of  nil  that  had  hcfallen  me.  I  placed  it 
in  the  hands  of  I\lr.  A.  who  engaged  to  forward 
it  for  me  the  first  opportunity  ;  but  I  never  re- 
ceived any  answer  in  return,  which  still  kept 
me  under  very  unpleasant  feelings,  from  the 
same  fears  as  mentioned  before. 

At  length  the  gentleman  who  came  as  com- 
panion with  Mr.  A.  was  called  by  Divine 
jProvidence  to  leave  Quebec.  Before  his  de- 
parture, he  came  to  pay  us  his  last  visit,  which 
proved  to  be  an  interesting  and  profitable  sea- 
son. After  having  given  us  much  good  advice 
and  fervently  commended  us  to  God  in  prayer, 
he  took  us  each  by  the  hand  and  aftcctionatcly 
bade  us  farewell.  It  was  the  most  interesting 
season  I  ever  witnessed;  every  eye  was  drown- 
ed in  tears,  and  every  heart  full,  and  as  he  left 
us,  wo  wished  the  blessing  of  those,  who  arc 
ready  to  perish,  might  be  upon  him. 

Not  only  did  the  Lord  impart  the  blessing  of 
his  grace  to  my  soul,  whereby  1  was  able  to 
Bay  : 

Through  every  period  of  my  life, 

Thy  goodnestj  I'll  pursue  ; 
And  after  death,  in  distants  worlds, 

The  pleasing  theme  renew. 

Through  all  eternity,  to  thee 

A  grateful  song  f'll  raise. 
But  O  !  eternity  8  too  short, 

To  utter  all  thy  praise, 

but  he  opened  a  door  whereby  I  was  relieved 
from  some  of  my  temporal    afflictix)ns.     The 


I  I   had  ex- 
informing 
I  placed  it 
to  forward 
I  never  re- 
h  still  kept 
^,  from  the 

le  as  corn- 
by  Divine 
)re  his  de- 
'isit,  which 
fitable  sea- 
ood  advice 
in  prayer, 
bctionately 
interesting 
ivas  drown- 
d  as  he  left 
e,  who  arc 

blessing  of 
ivas  able  to 


as  relieved 
ons.     The 


LlFi:  OF  VV.  n,  LlGllTON. 


169 


gaoler,  discovering  my  integrity  and  desire  of 
usefulness,  employed  me  to  mark  the  prison 
bedding,  clothes,  &,c.  by  doing  which,  I  occa- 
sionally obtained  the  liberty  of  the  yard.  It 
w  as  soon  aflcr  proposed  to  establish  a  school 
in  the  prison,  fur  the  benefit  of  the  illiterate  and 
entirely  ignorant,  and  by  the  advice  of  Mr.  A. 
I  was  chosen  to  instruct  in  English,  and  a 
young  man  of  suitable  talents  was  appointed  to 
teach  the  French  language.  To  encourage  us, 
they  promised  to  reward  us  liberally,  if  we  suc- 
ceeded in  gaining  their  applause.  We  com- 
menced our  new  work  by  prayer,  in  presence 
of  Mr.  A.  and  the  committee,  which  was  cho- 
sen to  superintend  its  operations.  Our  success 
was  such  as  to  call  forth  the  unqualified  appro- 
bation of  the  committee,  who  were  highly  grat- 
ified at  the  progress  we  made.  While  engaged 
in  the  school,  I  had  the  sum  of  four  dollars 
sent  me,  by  my  worthy  friend,  Mr.  W.  of  Mon- 
treal, which  proved  of  great  service,  as  I  had 
not  received  any  thing  fur  my  labors  in  teach- 
ing, and  was  in  consequence  thereof,  under  de- 
plorable circumstances.  But  thank  God  he 
was  mindful  and  merciful  toward  me,  in  that  he 
was  pleased  to  relieve  me  in  an  hour,  when  I 
most  needed  it,  my  soul  could  say, 

"Behind  a  fiowninnf  Providence 
He  hides  a  smiling  face." 

As  I  stood  in  need  of  provision,  I  sent  out 
and  purchased  a  whole  sheep,  (dressed)  some 
peas,  &,c.  The  man  just  arrived  wivh  it  as  Mr. 
A.  came  to  visit  the  school.     Not  designing  he 


,1 


,  I 

';  1' 


I    i- 


170 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTOX. 


should  know  it,  I  hastened  to  secrete  it  in  a  cell 
in  the  room,  but  his  eye  being  too  sharp  for 
me,  he  caught  sigut  of  it,  and  supecting  by  the 
bustle  something  was  on  foot,  his  curiosity  led 
him  to  look  into  the  cell,  where,  to  his  surprise, 
he  saw  the  whole  carcass  of  a  sheep  placed  up 
in  one  corner.  Turning  from  the  cell,  he  ask- 
ed me  whose  it  was,  I  told  him  it  was  mine. 
"Well  then,"  said  he,  "you  mean  to  live  well  I 
see."  Indeed,  this  circumstance  had  a  bad  ef- 
fect upon  his  liberality,  as  neither  my  comrade 
nor  myself  ever  received  any  renumeration  for 
our  trouble.  They  thought  we  lived  well 
enough  without  it.  Upon  the  approach  of 
spring,  our  school  closed,  through  the  neglect 
of  the  prisoners,  when  the  committee  thought  it 
advisable  to  close  it  for  the  season.  No  one 
having  any  thing  against  my  character,  the 
keepers  said  nothing  to  mc  about  returning  to 
my  close  room,  but  still  permitted  me  to  enjoy 
the  liberty  of  the  yard. 

Things  were  in  this  situation,  when  a  French 
gentleman,  named  Moruia,  by  profession  a  doc- 
tor, was  committed  to  prison,  though  unjustly, 
for  six  months.  This  gentleman  soon  became 
my  friend,  and  as  he  occupied  a  private  room, 
succeeded  in  gaining  the  consent  of  the  gaoler, 
for  me  to  room  with  him  ;  which  circumstance 
made  me  comparatively  happy.  I  saw  the  fin- 
ger of  Providence  evidently  at  work  in  my  be- 
nalf,  and  began  to  indulge  a  hope  that  circum- 
stances would  soon  conspire  to  favor  my  escape. 
While  with  the  doctor,  he  cured   me  of  a  can- 


'  1 


►IV. 

te  it  in  a  cell 
oo  sharp  for 
cting  by  the 
curiosity  led 
lis  surprise, 
p  placed  up 
Jell,  he  ask- 
was   mine. 

0  live  well  I 
id  a  bad  cf- 
ny  comrade 
neration  for 

lived  welJ 
pproach  of 
the  neglect 
5  thought  it 
1.  No  one 
racter,  the 
eturning  to 
ne  to  enjoy 

n  a  French 
ision  a  doc- 

1  unjustly, 
>n  became 
^ate  room, 
the  gaoler, 
cumstance 
iw  the  fin- 
in  my  be- 
at circum- 
Tiy  escape. 

'  of  a  can- 


LIFE  01'  \V.  B.  LIGHTON. 


171 


cer,  which  for  some  time  had  filled  me  with 
alarm,  and  threatened  me  with  early  dissolution. 
He  also  gave  me  some  clothing,  which  togeth- 
er with  what  I  received  from  the  jail  made  mo 
quite  comfortable  in  that  respect. 

The  providence  of  God  still  worked  in  my 
favor,  and  caused  my  heart  to  leap  with  inward 
joy.  I  was  again  taken  into  employ  by  the 
gaoler.  His  bo  whom  he  employed  as  ser- 
vant, left  him,  i-Uid  as  he  wanted  another  to 
take  the  immediate  charge  of  his  horses,  that 
were  stabled  within  the  walls  of  the  prison  yard, 
he  pitched  on  me  to  supply  that  vacant  place. 
I  had  not  lived  in  this  situation  a  week,  before 
I  discovered  a  possibility  of  making  my  escape, 
and  having  the  highest  confidence  in  the  Doc- 
tor, I  mentioned  it  to  him,  for  his  consideration, 
who,  transported  with  so  favorable  a  plun,  cau- 
tioned me  to  keep  it  a  profound  secret,  and 
when  the  propitious  moment  arrived,  he  would 
abscond  with  me,  merely  tor  the  sake  of  making 
my  escape  complete.  Meanwhile  he  began 
sending  out  his  library  to  a  friend  in  the  city  ; 
but  this  excited  no  suspicion  as  his  time  was 
nearly  expired. 

Before  1  proceed  further,  I  will  just  mention 
the  principle  existing  in  the  bosom  of  the  Doc- 
tor, that  influenced  him  to  this  philanthropic 
and  benevolent  act.  It  was  that  he  had  a  sin- 
cere and  friendly  regard  for  my  happiness. 
To  use  his  own  words,  he  said  :  "  When  I 
think  of  your  situation,  the  misery  you  have  to 
euffer,  and  very  probably  will  have  to  undergo 
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172 


LIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


■i     ! 


'<$  I 


!i; 


all  your  life,  from  the  fact  that  you  are  a  desert- 
er from  the  army,  the  punishment  for  which, 
you  have  no  hope,  under  the  circumstances  it 
was  committed,  of  its  being  any  other  than 
transportation  for  life,  which  to  me,  is  the  most 
miserable  I  can  possibly  conceive.  And  again, 
when  I  take  into  consideration  youi  tender 
youth,  and  the  probability  of  your  future  use- 
fulness, both  to  yourself  and  the  world,  could 
you  be  free,  I  forbid  declining  so  noble  an  act, 
which  I  well  know  will  be  the  final  means  of 
your  deliverance  from  all  your  present  and  fu- 
ture misery — and  will  restore  you  to  liberty  and 
happiness.  With  these  feelings  I  sacrifice  all 
regard  to  future  consequences,  for  your  happi- 
ness, and  should  I  be  taken  for  my  escape,  I 
shall  have  the  pleasure  and  satisfaction  to  know 
you  are  free,  and  that  my  memory  is  cherished 
ttt  your  affections  for  the  ad.^^ 

In  regard  to  the  propriety  of  escaping,  my 
feelings  were  somewhat  delicate,  but  the  idea 
of  being  ultimately  transported,  operated  like 
a  goad  to  urge  me  on  to  the  attempt ;  and  me- 
thinks  every  candid  reader  will  justify  the  act. 

As  it  was  my  business  to  take  care  of  the 
horses,  I  had  access  to  the  south  garret  of  the 
prison,  to  get  their  grain,  which  garret  was 
close  by  the  room  where  we  lived.  My  plan 
was  to  secure  the  keys  of  this  place,  and  by 
the  aid  of  a  rope  descend  from  the  window  to 
the  street,  it  being  unsecured  by  iron  bars. 
The  Doctor  had  prepared  every  thing  for  our 
exit   and  we  only  waited  to  obtain  possession 


'  i 


tIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


173 


df  the  keys.     It  happened  one  evening,  that 
beine  in  want  of  grain  for  my  horses,  I  went  to 
the    Kitchen,  as  usual,  where  the  keys  were 
kept,  and  found  no  person  there  except  a  little 
girl  about  twelve  years  of  age  ;  I  took  them 
from   their  place  and  passed  out   unobserved, 
went  up  to  the  garret  as  quick  as  possible,  and 
got  my  grain  ;   the  Doctor  and  myself  obser- 
ving where  was  a  long  stout  rope,  and  in  leav- 
ing the  garret,  lefl  the  inner  door  unlocked,but 
to  prevent  suspicion,  fastened  the  outer  door  as 
usual.     This  done  I  secured  the   keys  in  my 
own   room  ;   went   down   stairs   and   attended 
to  my  duty  iii  the  stable,   and   returned  to  my 
apartment  without  exciting  the  least  suspicion, 
in  the  breasts  of  any.     How  did  my  heart  flut- 
ter at  the  idea  of  the  prospect  before  me  !  How 
anxious  did  I  feel  for  the  success  of  my  enter- 
prise !     How  impatient  for  the  hour  of  attempt! 
Every  thing  was  tranquil  through  the  even- 
ing ;  at  nine  o'clock  the  turnkey  came  his  usu- 
al round  ;  he  entered  our  room,  and  looking 
round,  wished    us    good    night,  and   retired. 
We  now  fancied  ourselves  secure,  which  pro- 
duced in  us  the  highest  feelings  of  animation. 
About  ten  o'clock  we  were  suddenly  alarmed 
by  the  turnkey,  whom  we  heard  unlocking  the 
doors  which  shut  across  the  passage,  leading  to 
our  room.     Terrified,  and  fearful  we  were  dis- 
covered, wo  threw  our  half  prepared  bundles 
under  the  bed,  and  sat  apparently  deeply  enga- 
ged in  study,  waiting  the  event.     However,  it 
proved  to  be  nothing  more  than  the  arrival  of  a 


w 

4 


li'i. '    ■■ 


If' 

1 

;■ 
i' 

1  ';p  i 

lif^'' 

liii^ 

11 

1; 


<.'f,V:  I    , 


174 


LIFE  OF  W.   B.  LIGIITON. 


new  prisoner,  who  was  placed  in  an  adjoining 
room,  by  the  turnkey,  who  just  came  into  ours, 
and  bidding  us  a  second  good  night,  left  us 
without  suspecting  our  design. 

Not  feeling  disposed  to  sleep,  we  spent  the 
night  watching  for  the  moment  which  was  to 
free  us  from  the  gloom  of  the  prison.  Every 
thing  remained  perfectly  silent,  except  the  city 
watchmen,  who  occasionally  pronounced  their 
"o//  is  well,^^  as  they  passed  from  beat  to  beat, 
an  expression  which  truly  accorded  with  our 
feelings.  At  four  o'clock,  just  as  the  dawn  of 
day  was  making  its  appeai-ance  in  the  eastern 
sky,  the  watchmen  left  their  several  posts  ;  and 
we  then  conceived,  at  this  propitious  moment, 
while  darkness  overspread  the  face  of  nature, 
and  kept  man  lulled  in  his  slumbers,  we  should 
be  able  to  leave  the  city  unobserved.  Having 
secured  our  bundles,  we  proceeded  to  unlock 
the  door  of  the  garret,  which  we  did  with  but 
little  noise  ;  we  next  secured  one  end  of  our 
rope  to  a  brace,  but  in  dropping  it  by  the 
eaves  (for  the  window  stood  in  upon  the  roof) 
it  made  considerable  noise,  as  the  roof  was 
covered  with  tin.  We  paused  a  moment  to  as- 
certain if  we  had  alarmed  the  sentry,  who  was 
in  the  yard  at  no  great  distance  ;  happily,  we 
had  not.  After  dropping  the  rope  I  was  so 
transported  with  the  prospect  before  me,  and 
fearing  my  bundle  would  occasion  some  diffi- 
culty, I  told  the  Doctor  I  would  leave  it  for  the 
reason  assigned  ;  he  urged  me  by  all  means  to 
take  it,  but  without  any  further  words,  I  seized 


i 


II' 


adjoining 
into  ours, 
t,  left  U3 

spent  the 
ch  was  to 
I.  Every 
►t  the  city 
iced  their 
it  to  beat, 
with  our 
J  dawn  of 
le  eastern 
osts  ;  and 
;  moment, 
)f  nature, 
we  should 
Having 
to  unlock 
1  with  but 
nd  of  our 
it  by  the 
the  roof) 
roof  was 
ent  to  as- 
,  who  was 
ippily,  we 
I  was  so 
3  me,  and 
ome  diffi- 
it  for  the 
means  to 
,  I  seized 


'i  i 


m-^^t 


m 

its' 


i 


;r'i  •" 


ESCAPE  FROM  PRISON. 


\    r 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  UGHTON. 


175 


the  rope  and  was  quickly  in  the  street  below, 
where  I  retired  a  short  distance  to  await  my 
companion.  He  was  somewhat  longer  in  de- 
scending, as  he  was  unwilling  I  should  lose  my 
bundle:  he  encumbered  himself  with  it.  Thus 
burdened,  he  had  but  one  hand  at  liberty  to 
descend  with  ;  ho  had  however,  contrived  to 
place  the  rope  between  his  feet,  but  unfortu- 
nately, in  turning  the  eaves  of  the  building,  it 
slipped  from  his  legs  and  he  had  to  descend  the 
distance  of  four  story,  with  one  hand  only. 
The  suddenness  of  his  descent  fired  his  hand 
before  he  got  half  way  down,  so  that  he  came 
near  falling,  and  in  consequence  of  which,  it 
was  useless  for  some  time  afterwards.  Thus 
were  we  providentially  delivered  from  the 
gloomy  confinement  of  a  prison,  in  which  I 
had  been  confined,  for  two  years  and  two 
months,  and  where  I  had  suffered  in  the  most 
distressing  manner.  To  that  holy  and  ever 
merciful  Providence,that  supported  me  through 
the  whole,  be  ascribed  ceaseless  and  everlast- 
ing praises  ! 

CHAPTER  V. 

An  account  of  his  life  and  trials,  from  his  escape  from  impria- 
onment,to  his  arrival  in  the  United  States. 

There  is  a  peculiar  sensation,  which  the 
mind  feels  when  it  is  relieved  of  its  weight  of 
trouble,  which  none  but  the  subject  himself  can 


1'* 


* 


s  iji 


I'  ■ 


176 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


'i:ij 


f 

1 

i'^ 

fl 

1 ,: 

1 

i; 

■' 

m      1 ! 


^ilil 


realize.  It  was  so  in  my  case.  I  felt  it  through 
my  whole  soul.  The  happiness  I  felt  from  fin- 
ding myself  freed  from  confmement,  is  beyond 
either  the  power  of  my  tongue,  or  pen  to  de- 
scribe. It  can  only  be  painted  upon  the  imag- 
ination of  my  readers,  but  never  really  felt  but 
by  myself. 

After  my  companion  had  joined  me,  and  de- 
livered me  my  bundle,  which  was  what  I  did 
not  expect,  we  proceeded  out  of  the  city  with 
great  speed,  the  Doctor  taking  the  lead,  and 
pursuing  the  course  he  thought  best  and  safest. 
We  soon  passed  the  gate  at  the  back  of  the 
city,  unobserved  by  any,  or  without  hearing 
the  least  cause  for  alarm.  We  next  crossed  a 
river,  which  at  this  date,  the  25th  day  of  April, 
182d,  was  passible  by  teams  While  crossing 
the  river,  the  Doctor,  who  was  a  devoted  Cath- 
olic, fell  on  his  knees,  and  thanked  Providence 
who  had  protected  us  and  favored  our  escape. 
For  my  own  part,  though  I  felt  equally  grate- 
ful, I  was  too  afraid  of  discovery  to  stop  as  did 
my  companion,  but  as  I  proceeded,  praised 
God  and  jumped  for  joy.  Indeed,  I  scarcely 
knew  what  to  do  through  animation  of  feeling, 
sometimes  I  would  hurry  the  Doctor  to  the 
run,  but  being  consideraby  advanced  in  years, 
he  could  not  run  far  before  he  was  obliged  to 
moderate  his  speed  into  a  walk  ;  then  I  would 
take  to  the  run  myself,  and  beckon  him  to  speed 
on  ;  at  other  times  I  would  jump,  talk,  laugh, 
and  sing,  as  if  I  had  been  beside  my  reason. 

The  Doctor  thought  it  best  for  us  to  go  down 


■<■ 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


177 


t  through 
from  fin- 
is beyond 
en  to  de- 
the  imag- 
Y  felt  but 

;,  and  de- 
/hat  I  did 
city  with 
lead,  and 
nd  safest, 
ick  of  the 
it  hearing 
crossed  a 
T  of  April, 
3  crossing 
ted  Cath- 
rovidence 
ir  escape, 
lly  grate- 
top  as  did 
praised 
scarcely 
)f  feeling, 
tor  to  the 
I  in  years, 
obliged  to 
n  I  would 
n  to  speed 
ilk,  laugh, 
reason, 
o  go  down 


the  St.  Lawrence,  among  the  population  of 
French  inhabitants,  as  there  was  no  news  in 
circulation  that  way,  and  because  our  pursuers 
would  not  suspect  us  of  taking  that  route  ;  but 
would  naturally  suppose  we  had  gone  towards 
the  United  States.  As  it  was  yet  between 
day-light  and  sunrise,  we  pursued  our  way  as 
speedily  as  possible,  until  we  came  to  a  piece 
of  woods,  where  we  had  a  view  of  the  city  and 

firison.  We  remained  some  time  viewing  the 
atter  place,  and  conjecturing  what  would  be 
the  feelings,  and  language  of  the  keepers,when 
they  found  we  had  been  prison  keepers  during 
the  past  night,  and  that  we  had  opened  the 
doors  and  window  and  fled.  Indeed,  the  con- 
clusion was  so  extatic,  that  it  drew  from  us  fits 
of  loud  and  hearty  laughter.  The  forest  song- 
sters now  commenced  their  sweet  reviving  notes 
of  praise,  and  all  seemed  to  return  thanks  to 
the  great  Creator  for  our  deliverance.  O  !  how 
delightfully  grand  was  this  hour,  it  tru^y  resem- 
bled the  hours  I  used  frequently  to  paiy»  in  the 
groves,  when  with  my  dear  parents  at  home. 
It  begat  sentiments  of  filial  gratitude,  and  a 
desire  that  I  might  again  breathe  the  salubri- 
ous air  of  my  native  clime. 

We  were  intending  to  remain  in  the  woods 
all  day,  and  travel  in  the  night,  until  we  had 
got  some  distance  from  the  city,  but  the  cold 
having  such  an  effect  upon  us,  we  were  under 
the  necessity  of  travelling  in  order  to  keep  our- 
selves warm.  We  accordingly  pursued  our 
course  across  the  fields,  into  the  back  country , 
17 


I' 


'■  ill 


iini 

ll!:ii' 

Af ''. 

mm '  i 

ill ' 

HlRi  ll 

'HI' 

r 

"'■ii 

■   '  1 

i'l 


Vi  {.1 


!i    t 


178 


LIFE  OF  W.  n.  LIGHTON. 


which  travelling  was  beautiful  and  easy,  as  we 
walked  on  the  hard  snowy  crust.  To  prevent 
suspicion  on  the  part  of  those  we  might  meet, 
the  Doctor  resolved  to  travel  in  the  practice  of 
his  profession,  and  I  was  to  act  in  the  capacity 
of  servant.  At  noon  we  partook  of  dinner  in  a 
French  family,  which  was  the  first  social  meal 
I  had  eaten  in  a  house  since  I  left  England. 
Towards  night  we  came  to  a  bye-place,  where 
we  both  joined  in  humbh  prayer  to  Almighty 
God,  giving  him  thanks  for  his  goodness,  and 
soliciting  his  protection  in  future.  In  this  ex- 
ercise,  our  souls  were  encouraged  and  refresh- 
ed, and  our  confidence  in  God  increased.  Wo 
then  sought  a  house^  and  having  found  one,  we 
put  up  for  the  night. 

The  next  night  we  arrived  at  one  of  the  Doc- 
tor's friends,  where  we  remained  over  the  next 
day  and  right,  and  though  he  was  aware  we 
had  been  prisoners,  having  visited  the  Doctor 
during  his  confinement,  he  had  no  idea  we  had 
run  away,  but  supposed  us  to  be  regularly  dis- 
charged, the  reverse  of  which  we  were  careful 
he  should  not  learn  from  us. 

From  this  place  we  proceeded  to  St.  Anns, 
where  was  a  Roman  Catholic  Church,  which 
was  held  in  high  estimation  by  the  French. 
Having  heard  much  of  this  place  from  the  pris- 
oners, while  at  Quebec,  I  proposed  to  visit  it, 
to  which  my  companion  assented.  To  give  the 
reader  an  idea  of  the  gross  superstition  of  these 
people,  I  shall  give  a  true  account  of  the  char- 


"     J 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTOX. 


179 


acter  of  this  noted  church,  and  what  the  people 
themselves  believe  respecting  it. 

St.  Ann,  as  I  was  informed  by  the  prisoners, 
and  also  by  my  companion,  is  much  regarded 
as  sacred,  among  the  French  Roman  Catholics, 
as  a  place  possessing  great  healing  virtues. 
Such  is  their  faith  in  St.  Ann  (after  which  saint 
this  church  is  named)  that  if  any  of  her  wor- 
shippers enter  the  church  lame,  mutilated,  or 
sick,  and  by  having  faith  in  her  efficacy,  she 
will  restore  them  to  iheir  original  state  of  health, 
and  bodily  perfection. 

In  ascending  the  ii^teps  of  the  building,  the 
Doctor,  as  is  customary,  knelt  down  crossed 
himself,  and  said  a  few  words  of  prayer,  while 
I  stood  gazing  with  a  kind  of  superstitious  awe 
at  the  sacred  edifice.  Upon  entering,  the  first 
object  that  struck  my  attention  was  a  number 
of  crutches,  wooden  legs,  staves,  &c.  hung  up 
in  regular  rows,  as  evidence  of  the  cures  which 
had  been  wrought  by  the  power  of  St.  Ann. 
As  I  stepped  in,  I  trembled,  as  I  had  never 
been  within  a  catholic  church  before  ;  looking 
to  the  right,  I  observed  an  imitation  of  the 
blessed  Saviour,  nearly  as  large  as  life,  hang- 
ing in  a  relaxed  posture  on  the  cross,  besmear- 
ed with  blood  ;  the  image,  or  painting  of  St. 
Ann,  and  other  saints.  This  sight  produced  in 
me  feelings  of  the  most  solemn  kind,  and  I  fell 
upon  my  knees  and  prayed,  not  to  the  images, 
but  to  him  who  died  upon  the  cross  for  the  for- 
giveness of  my  sins.  O  !  when  will  superstition 
and  heathenistn  be  done  away  ?  May  God  grant 


n 


I, 


'i  J 


III 


m 


:{ 


! 


!i   I; 


M 


I"! 


f  ' 


I  Mi 
m 
hi 
1   ■MH 


180 


LIF£  OF  W.  II.  LKiilTON. 


that  the  light  of  truth  may  soon  dieperse  theie 
clouds  of  error  ! 

But  I  cannot  forbear  mentioning  one  more 
■uperstitious  act  of  worship,  out  of  the  vast 
many,  that  are  found  among  those  people  ; 
and  that  is  their  cross  omage.  It  will  be  un- 
derstood that  among  them  they  have  at  ev- 
ery short  distance,  a  cross  erected  by  the 
side  of  the  road,  and  on  passing  them,  the 
devotee  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion  pulls 
off  his  hat,  crosses  himself,  and  repeats  over  a 
short  prayer,  some  even  kneeling  down  at  the 
foot  of  them.  On  these  relics  of  catholic  su- 
perstition are  frequently  seen  the  various  arti- 
cles, used  at  the  crucifixion  of  the  blessed  Sa- 
viour, placed  along  in  order,  on  the  transfixed 
beam,  or  cross  piece,  together  with  the  cock 
that  crotved  at  Peter's  denying  his  Lord  and 
Master.  Reader,  how  different  is  this  from  the 
mild  and  simple  gospel  of  Jesus  !  O,  look  at 
Popery ;  see  it  in  its  effects.  It  darkens  the 
page  of  revelation  ;  spreads  ignorance  and 
confusion  throughout  society  ;  and  with  its  un- 
paralleled tyranny,  and  bloody  inqusitions,  robs 
man  of  his  dearest  liberty  and  rights  !  May 
we  feel  thankful  for  the  gospel,  which  teaches 
us  the  sound  principle  of  a  religion,  unadorned 
with  Popery  ! 

The  Doctor's  profession  aflibrded  him  ample 
means  of  support,  as  he  seldom  visited  a  house 
without  doing  something  for  the  family,  and  re- 
ceiving money  in  return.  Aflcr  traveling  with 
bim,  in  this  manner  for  a  week,   I  resolved  to 


erae  theie 

one  more 
'  the  vast 
3  people  ; 
ill  be  un- 
ivQ  at  ev- 
d  by  the 
them,  the 
igion  pulls 
ats  over  a 
wn  nt  the 
itholic  su- 
rious  arti- 
Icssed  Sa* 
transfixed 
the  cock 
Lord  and 
8  from  the 
O,  look  nt 
irkens  the 
ince  and 
ith  its  un- 
ions, robs 
s !  May 
1  teaches 
jnadorned 


Ml'K  OF  W.    IJ.   IJCillTON. 


]81 


1^? 


im  ample 
)d  a  house 
y,  and  re- 
eling with 
esolved  to 


Icavo  liiiii,  and  oht.iiti  hoiiic  (Miiiiloyinent.  lie 
at  first  disHuadcd  mo,  but  finding  inn  roBolvcd 
and  decided  on  llii.s  point,  ho  directed  hi!4  atten- 
tion to  procuring  me  a  situation.  1  determin- 
ed however,  (irst  to  elmnirci  my  name,  the  bet- 
ter to  avoid  detection.  The  name  1  chose  to 
ossuine  was  'i'homas  Kllencourt. 

The  next  <lay  coming  to  a  hirjjro  farm,  in  the 
parish  of  St.  Joachin,  about  thirty  miles  below 
Quebec,  my  coinpanion  inquired  it'  they  wanted 
to  hire  ;  and  after  some  conversation,  and  abun- 
dance of  recomrnondiitioM,  from  the  Doctor,  I 
agreed  to  work  lor  tlie  gentleman  tor  tiileen 
sliiliings  per  montli.  My  wages  were  compar- 
atively small,  but  it  will  be  observed,  that  it  was 
rather  out  of  the  scuison  to  hire  at  that  time, 
and  beside,  be  engaged  me  more  out  of  charity 
than  from  any  thing  else.  It  will  be  observed 
also  th'it  the  best  of  hired  bands,  among  this 
people,  could  get  no  more  than  lour  dollars  per 
month  'J'he  bargain  being  made,  1  accompan- 
ied the  Doctor  a  short  distance,  when  after 
promising  to  see  me  again  in  about  two  months, 
if  nothing  happened  to  prevent,  bade  me  an  af- 
fectionate farewell. 

My  master  set  me  to  chopping  wood,at  which 
I  made  a  very  awkward  appearance,  and  but 
little  progress,  as  it  was  the  first  time  I  ever 
engaged  in  such  business.  JNIy  delicate  ap- 
pearance induced  them  to  set  mo  about  lighter 
work,  such  as  assisting  in  the  dairy,  milking, 
Slc.  After  living  with  them  about  three  weeks 
I  grew  uneasy,  aa  I  had  no  one  to  converse 
17* 


\ 


«  I 


'1- 


t 


I 


18 


</> 


rj?/F  OF  M.  u,  Lr(;H'j():\. 


'  'I 


I  f 


■f  :;!i 


with  in  iny  own  tr.!)gue,  except  an  old  Eng- 
Ushmr.p.,  who  had  in  early  lli'o  !icoii  a  soldier^ 
but  \v!io,  tVom  thiify  years  residence  with  the 
Fren.'h,  had  ahr.ost  erltir^?ly  lost  the  use  of  his 
ov>n  lnni;iK}.fi^o. 

The  iiimilv  wero  ri^nd  ':atho)ics.  and  required 
of  ')]'.  tVioir  domcotifvj.  the  strictest  conffjnnity 
to  the  outward  ruhii  dT  (iu'ir  religion.  My 
fcoh.\}[^H  wci'Q  soi'iowh:)!  niortitied  the  flr.^t  time 
I  cnter.'jn  tavir  church,  beini,^  a  perfect  Htran,<Ter 
to  all  tiieir  puternosters  and  eercnionie.s,  1  en- 
tered tlieir  church,  na  -  h:id  been  wont  to  do 
my  own,  with  out  nny  rcij-ard  (o  titeir  rules  and 
curitorn:>.  Tjiis  conduct  prodi^ced  an  univer- 
sal tiUerin'j:  amonrif  (ho«e  who  obscu'vcd  rny 
m-'uirjcr  ;  rnicinG:  invseit'  tlie  s-ubicct  oi'  their 
laur,}>ler,  1  booked  iiround  to  divine  tiie  cruise, 
wlien  I  fiiw  lh«t  eacdi  individual, a.s  he  entered^ 
dipped  his  hnf^er  into  a  basin  of  water,  and 
crosfscd  himself  with  it,  fell  on  his  knees,  and 
repeatet)  a  prayer  iii  a  niumbHng  manner  ; 
from  this  time,  thou>2;h  somewhat  i^aJiinji;  to  my 
fcelinnsj  i  followed  their  example,  and  ever  at- 
ter  pasFied  among  them  for  a  catholic. 

I  rnif^c^'t  relate  muvcli  of  the  peculiar  charac- 
ter of  this  people,  but  it  would  be  rjtcppm^:;  be- 
yond the  design  oi'  this  work.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  they  v.'cre  extremely  ignorant,  know'inj[^ 
but  little  about  ihcrnselvea,  or  God.  Tbev 
went  to  their  worship  like  saints,  and  acted  likf* 
devib  upon  their  retuiT:..  I  hj,ive  ovfizi  knowr: 
•hern,  to  hold  a  vcr?due  at  the  church  doors  after 
^i^?^vice.  on  the  holy  Sabbath,  hnd  the  priest  him 


M : 


v. 

1  inil  Eng- 
in  a  soldier, 
jc'j  witln  the 
J  use  of  his 

M'l  required 
conformity 
igion.     ]Mj 
e  first  time 
?ct  Htran,<Ter 
>!iicK,  1  en- 
wont  to    do 
V  rules  and 
an  nni ver- 
se rvcd   my 
ct   oi*  their 
tlie   cniiije, 
he  entered  J, 
water,  and 
knees,  and 
raanner  ; 
iiing  to  my 
nd  ever  af- 
ar charac- 
cpping  be- 
ffice    it    to 
I,  knowini^ 
"•d.      'i'hey 
!  acted  likf* 
ven  knowfj 
doors  after 
priest  hirA 


I.C'E   OF   W.  i\.  lt(;ht<>n. 


183 


«;:J 


< 


self  vtudd  l)e  a  bidder.  Sporting,  eddlinp, 
dancing,  kc.  vrere  their  chiet'  iJ»i:usemrats,  af- 
ter the  3oiemnities  of  ihe  Holy  d^y.  I  could 
find  no  commoii  sclioohi  anioui:^  tliem,  and  noth- 
ing tliat  indicated  cither  enterprise,  or  intelH- 
grnce,  not  one  out  of  twenty  could  eitlier  read 
or  write.  But,  snys  tlie  uriinformed  reader, 
how  came  they  in  thus  i^it'iatir>!i  ^  Why  I  will 
fceli  you,  it  id  ju.<^  lici'f  .  ll  is  the  geriiu.s  of  po* 
pcrv  to  keep  all  ilf^  Muhicets  as  i^rnorant  as  thcv 
can.  And  Vvdiy  :  Boea.use,  like  its  sister  r^j- 
pOiismy  it  can  only  !!xist  wijorc  thi.^evil  predom- 
inates ;  theretore,  ihey  are  'leterjnined  to  keep 
Uiciv  sub/jccts  ignorant. 

Now  s.'iouhi  inlellip^cnce  spread  among  them, 
they  would  soon  cease  to  be,  it  woidd  indeed, 
be  the  greatest  cirrsc  they  could  experience. 
This  is  too  plam  und  evident,  from  the  fact, that 
they  will  not  allov/  tlieir  subjects  the  proper  use 
of  iiu)  Bible,  but  all  must  believe  what  their 
priests  say,  whom  they  believe,  together  with 
the  pope  to  be  infallible.  How  easy  then  to 
lead  such  a  people  astray  !  A  few  words  more 
and  I  Will  delay  the  reader  no  longer,  and  that 
is,  IGNORANCE  is  incompatible  with  the 
SPIBIT  of  LIBERTY,  It  is  rank  poison  in 
the  bowels  of  any  nation  professing  republican- 
ism. As  a  free  republic  we  are  hound  to  c/fs- 
stntinair  i.nticlligen'ce  by  every  means  withie. 
bur  power,  or  we  shall  experience  a  deadly  stab 
iipon  the  liberties  of  thi«  nation.  The  proiop* 
Crisis  I  alls  upon  our  ?u?entian,  and  bids  us  to 
foe  awake  u>  our  interest.      T\\r-  r.-iiglity  tiood  of 


I] 


.'31 
■1*1 


i 


1 


\r 


184 


LIFE    OF   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


1-4 


r    r!! 


f      ■  ,1 


'*'i!i 


i; 


catholic  emigration  is  threatening  us  with  alarm, 
and  the  design  of  EUllOPE  is  not  less  to  be 
dreaded.      'J'heir    pretended    philanthropy,  in 
sending  over  their  priests  and  money,  "to  in- 
struct," as  they  say,  *'the  ignorant  Americans," 
are  omens  of  a  great  and  malignant  evil.  Their 
intentions  are  not  to  benefit  us  ;  no,  they  would 
rather  destroy  us  ;  "and  it  is  one  of  the  appen- 
dages of  the  moral  engine,  destined  to  revolu- 
tionize the  nation,  and  subjugate  it  to  the  con- 
trol of  the  triple  crown.     As  confirmatory  evi- 
dence to  this,  we  will  quote  their  own   words, 
which  they  probably  never  intended  should  be 
brought  to  America  ;  but  as  we  have  them  we 
will  use  them.     They  are  taken  from  the  An- 
nals of  the  Association  for  propagating  the  Ro- 
man Faith,  a  French  periodical.     Speaking  of 
Popish  schools,  &.c.  in  the  United  States  : — 
"These    establishments   do   wonderful    good. 
Catholics  and  Protestants  are  admitted  indis- 
criminately.    The  latter,   after  having  finished 
their  education,   return  to  the   bosom  of  their 
families,  full  of  esteem  and  veneration  for  their 
instructresses,  (i.  e.  the  nuns)  and  often,  when 
they  have  no  longer  the  opposition  of  their  rel- 
atives to  fear,they  embrace  the  Catholic  Foi^/i." 
This   discloses  the   whole  matter.      They   have 
come  to   happy  America,  to   make  Catholics  of 
her  sons  and  daughters ;  to  subject  the  nation  to 
the  dominion  of  the  tyrants  of  Europe  ;   to  bring 
down  REPUBLICAJ^  banners  ;  to  take  away 
all  human  Hghts,  and  to  sweep  the   last  vestage 
of  civil  liberty  from  the  American  Continent  .'" 


ith  alarm, 
less  to  be 
iropy,  in 
"to  in- 
ericans," 
l^il.  Their 
ey  would 
le  appen- 

0  revolu- 
) the  con- 
itory  evi- 
n  words, 
should  be 
!  them  we 

1  the  An- 
?  the  Ko- 
daking of 
States  : — 
111  good, 
ted  indis- 
g  finished 
n  of  their 
1  for  their 
en,  when 
their  rel- 
Ic. Faith.'' 
^ey  have 
tholics  of 

nation  to 

to  bring 

ake  away 

t  vestage 

^inent  /" 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


185 


May  every  American  who  is  a  devoted  friend 
to  his  country,  awake  ;  and  rise  up  in  defence 
of  his  unalienable  rights  ;  and  may  God  pre- 
serve the  liberty  and  happiness  of  our  nation, 
and  save  us  from  all  foreign  invasion,  and  from 
the  evils  with  which  wcj  as  a  people,  are  so 
alarmingly  threatened  !  But  I  forbear,  and 
humbly  beg  pardon  of  the  reader  for  digressing 
so  far  from  the  main  subject.  As  an  apology 
for  so  doing,  I  would  say  ;  my  own  experience 
of  the  evil  upon  which  I  have  treated,  and  my 
ardent  desire  for  the  general  peace  and  happi- 
ness of  the  nation,  are  the  feelings  that  have  led 
me  to  this  deviation.  But  to  return  to  my  nar- 
rative. 

The  unsanctified  conduct  of  this  people,  to- 
gether with  my  own  indecision,  brought  me  in- 
to a  backsliding  state,  for,  from  first  witnessing 
their  unhallowed  courses,  I  began  to  join  them, 
until  I  became  very  rude,  and  wicked,  and  lost 
entirely  my  confidence  and  communion  with 
the  Lord.  I  soon  became  alarmed  for  my  per- 
sonal safety,  as  I  understood  the  farm  on  which 
I  worked  belonged  to  the  Seminary  of  priests 
at  Quebec  ;  some  of  whom  came  to  visit  tho 
family,  and  as  some  of  the  priests  and  students 
of  the  Seminary  had  visited  the  prison  during 
my  confinement,  I  was  fearful  of  being  recog« 
nized  ;  however,  those  who  came  were  stran- 

§ers  to  me.  1  was  also  very  fearful  of  being 
iscovered  by  my  dress,  as  I  still  wore  some  or 
my  prison  clothes,  which  I  was  obliged  to  do 
from  imperious  necessity,  not  having  any  oth- 


I'M!, 


''II 

',1. 


I 


m 


,!ili 


186 


LIFE   OF   W.    B.    LIGHTON. 


.'    !    .;      :^\ 


1t^: 


'J4 


era  I  could  substitute.  I  wore  a  pair  of  gray 
woolen  pantaloons,  which  were  marked  in  ma- 
ny places,  with  the  word  *^  GAOL."  in  large 
letters,  with  white  paint.  However,  previous 
to  this,  I  had  scraped  off  every  letter  with  a 
knife,  so  that  it  would  require  considerable 
scrutiny  to  detect  the  mark  ;  and  as  soon  as  I 
could  obtain  command  of  some  of  my  wages,  I 
procured  a  pair  of  cheap  tow-and-linen  panta- 
loons, when,  anxious  to  appear  no  longer  in  my 
prison  garb,  I  retired  into  the  woods,  to  put 
them  on  ;  taking  particular  care,  at  the  same 
time,to  secrete  the  last  article  of  a  prison  bads^e, 
which  I  did  by  burying  them  deep  under  the 
roots  of  a  huge  tree. 

Another  circumstance  tended  also  to  per- 
plex and  distress  my  mind  :  my  employer  had 
a  son  who  lived  at  Quebec,  who  made  frequent 
visits  to  the  family.  As  he  could  speak  the 
English  language  very  fluantly,  I  was  obliged 
to  go  into  the  room  and  talk  with  him  for  their 
gratification.  A  few  days  aflcr  his  departure 
from  his  first  visit,  he  suddenly  returned  ;  the 
knowledge  of  which  filled  me  with  the  most 
gloomy  apprehensions  for  my  safety.  The  gen- 
tleman came  to  me,  and  told  mo  his  son  had 
brought  some  newspapers,  and  I  must  go  in 
and  read  them.  Indeed  my  fears  were  now 
^wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  suspecting 
there  was  iniquity  in  the  case,  I  was  at  a  stand 
whether  to  obey  him  or  run  away  ;  but  fearful 
of  exciting  suspicion,  I  obeyed  his  request,  re- 
solving if  betrayed,  to  do  the  best  I  could  for 


31V. 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LTGHTON. 


187 


air  of  gray 
ked  in  ma- 
."  in  large 
r,  previous 
tter  with  a 
onsiderable 
}  soon  as  I 
\y  wages,  I 
men  panta- 
nger  in  my 
•ds,  to  put 
it  the  same 
ison  bads^e, 
under  the 

Iso  to  per- 
ployer  had 
ie  frequent 
speak   the 
'as  obliged 
m  for  their 
s  departure 
jrned  ;  the 
h  the  most 
The  gen- 
is  son  had 
must  go  in 
were  now 
suspecting 
at  a  stand 
but  fearful 
request,  re- 
I  could  for 


my  escape.  Accordingly,!  went  into  the  house 
and  read  some  to  them,  and  was  careful  to  ex- 
amine the  papers  thoroughly  in  order  to  see  if 

I        there  was  any   advertisements  ibr  me  ;  but  to 

^^        iny  satisfaction  I  discovered  none. 

A  few  days  after  this,  I  attended  church  on 
the  Sabbath  and  to  my  astonishment  saw  a  gen- 
tleman in  the  crowd,  who  hjid  been  in  prison 
for  debt,  and  who  of  course  was  well  acquain- 
ted with  me.  Without  betraying  my  feelings, 
I  hastened  to  escape  from  the  place,  and  return- 
ed to  my  abode,  devising  means  for  my  future 
escape  from  recognition.  *  The  next  Sabbath 
I  was  not  intending  to  go  to  church,  for  fear  of 
discovery  ;  but  the  family  was  so  dissatisfied 
that  they  called  me  hard  names, — said  I  was 
no  better  than  a  dog^  I  was  a  healheriy  &c.  upon 

*  I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  left  this  place  for  the  United 
States;  but  the  peculiar  circumstances  in  which  1  was  placed, 
prevented  me  from  doin^;  it.  I  was  almost  entirely  ignorant 
of  tiie  country,  not  knowing  which  way  to  pursue  for  safety, 
and  to  gain  the  United  States.  I  was  also  fearful  of  exciting 
•u.<^picion,  should  I  make  inquiiy  of  the  French,  (for  I  had 
none  others  with  whom  I  could  talk.)  Another  difficulty,  was, 
I  could  not  cross  the  St.  Lawrence,  without  exposing  my  life 
aa  the  river  was  some  of  the  time  full  of  floating  ice.  And  to 
go  by  the  city  of  Quebec,  would  probably  have  been  attended 
with  fatal  consequences;  as  I  might  have  been  taken.  I  ther«« 
fore  tliought  it  best  lo  remain  where  I  was,  (if  I  could  do  it 
with  any  degree  of  safety,)  until  my  friend  Doctor  Moriu4 
•hould  visit  me;  when  I  intended  to  leave  forthwith.  As  dan» 
gerouf  fts  my  situation  was,  it  probably  was  not  so  bad  ai  it 
would  h«v«  Men  had  I  proceeded  in  my  own  way  to  make  my 
Mcape*  Indeed  I  firmly  believe  I  was  preserved  by  the  over* 
ruling  hand  of  Providence.  The  event  that  gave  birth  to  m^ 
deliventncA,  deserves  to  be  attributed  to  the  merciful  Pro? i- 
dtnee  of  God;  to  whom  I  would  ascribe  ceaielese  praisei. 


^  <A 


ill 


f 

'I 

■  5 


188 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


. '. '% 


l;,-ii' 


'ilK: 


f :«'!!' 


■<:,! 


•'K 


which  rather  than  to  be  treated  with  disdain, 
and  contempt  by  thern,  I  went  to  church  ;  but 
who  should  I  see  among  the  crowd,  but  the  6a- 
ker  who  used  to  supply  the  prison  with  bread. 
Knowing  that  he  also  was  well  acquainted  with 
me,  I  resolved  to  get  away  from  the  crowd  im- 
mediately, and  make  my  escape.  I  noticed 
that  upon  my  first  view  of  him,  he  was  looking 
towards  me,  if  not  at  me  ;  but  whether  he  no-* 
ticed  me  or  not  I  cannot  say  ;  however,  I  have 
no  doubt,  had  I  remained,  I  should  have  been 
detected  upon  the  spot,  and  reconducted  back 
to  Quebec,  where  my  fate  would  have  been  fix- 
ed forever.  I  now  resolved  I  would  run  away 
that  night,  and  should  have  done  so,  had  I  not 
been  prevented  by  the  following  circumstance. 
As  I  was  sitting  in  the  house  in  the  evening, 
meditating  on  my  proposed  undertaking,  two 
hired  men  of  the  family  came  in,  and  began 
talking  in  a  low  tone  ;  and  from  what  I  could 
gather,  they  had  heard  of  the  absconding  of 
two  men  from  prison,  whom  they  suspected  to 
be  the  Doctor  and  myself.  Upon  this,  I  was 
much  concerned,  and  feeling  anxious  to  ascer- 
tain the  true  import  of  their  conversation, (  for 
I  could  understand  the  French  language)  ap- 
proached them,  when  they  ceased  talking.  I 
tell  them,  and  lay  down  on  my  bed,  not  intend- 
ing to  undress.  Shortly  afler,  they  inquired 
of  me  if  I  had  gone  to  bed ;  upon  learning 
that  I  had  not,  they  told  me  I  had  better  do  it. 
From  this  I  thought  that  they  were  set  as  a 
watch  over  me,  and  that  to  try  to  get   away 


N. 


LIFE  OP  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


186 


ith  disdain, 
hurch  ;  but 

but  the  6a« 

with  bread, 
minted  with 
crowd  im- 
I  noticed 
was  looking 
jther  he  no-- 
3ver,  I  have 
i  have  been 
lucted  back 
ve  been  fix- 
Id  run  away 
had  I  not 
k-cumstance. 
lie  evening, 
rtaking,  two 

and  began 
vhat  I  could 
sconding  of 
suspected  to 

this,  I  was 
us  to  ascer« 
rsation,(  for 
iguagc)  ap. 

talking.  I 
,  not  intend* 
By  inquired 
on  learning 
better  do  it. 
sre  set  m  a 
>  get  away 


i 


f.'JS 


^1 


would  be  useless;  so  that  I  submitted  myself  to 
my  fate   and  went  to  bed ,  where  I  spent  a  rest- 
less and  miserable  night.   But  as  I  heard  no  more 
of  their  talk,my  fears  must  have  been  groundless, 
and  I  of  course  became  more  calm  and  easy  in 
my  mind.     To  increase  my  alarm,  the  gentleman 
who  was  my  employer,  asked   me  one  day  if  I 
was  not  a  soldier;  to  which  I  made  very  strange 
and  replied  disdainfully,  no!     From  these    cir- 
cumstances I  was  powerfully  convinced  it  would 
not  do  for  me  to  stay  much  longer  in  that  place. 
Therefore,!  resolved  to  leave  as  soon  as  conveni- 
ent. However,  I  delayed  a  few  days  longer,until 
on  Wednesday,  as  I  was  busily  engaged  in  the 
woods  chopping,one  of  the  hired  men  came  upon 
the  fijll  run  towards  me,saying  in  French,"  TAom- 
as^you  must  come  homeythere  is  a  gentleman  wants 
to  see  youP'^     I  answered,  with  great  excitement 
of  feeling  who  is  it  wants  to  see  me?     He  repli- 
ed again,   "  a  gentleman  ;  u'ho  it  is  I  canH  /e//." 
I  was  so  alarmed  at  this  information  that  I  tur- 
ned pale,and  could  hardly  bear  my  own  weight. 
The  man  seeing  I  was  agitated,  said,  "  it  is  the 
Doctor;'*''  but  not  understanding  him,  I  thought 
he  said   the    turnkey.     This  misunderstanding 
tended  to  increase  my  fears,  till  he   repeated, 
more  intelligibly  and  with  deeper  emphasis  "tf 
is  the   Doctor  who  came  here  with  you.^'*     Upon 
this  my  countenance  lighted  up,  my  heart  leap- 
ed with  inward  joy,  and  gratitude,  and  my  fears 
banished,  and  with  pleasure  I  went  to  meet  my 
old  friend  at  the  place  he  had   assigned,  for  he 
would   not    come    on   shore   to  the  house,  but 


% 


n 


I 


190 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


si' 


■;:  -i 


;n'''  'I 


spoke  from  the  boat  for  fear,  if  I  had  been  de- 
tected, it  would  lead  to  his  apprehension. 

No  one  can  know  the  happiness  I  felt  on 
this  occasion.  It  was  like  that  which  I  felt  on 
my  escape  from  prison  ;  I  viewed  the  arrival 
of  my  friend  as  an  interferance  of  Divine  Prov- 
idence, that  would  eventuate  in  my  final  deliv- 
erance. 

We  both  felt  gratified  at  seeing  each  other, 
after  six  weeks  absence,  and  having  made  the 
usual  inquiries  about  our  health,  &.c.  proceed- 
ed to  state  to  each  other,  what  we  had  experi- 
enced. The  Doctor  said  he  had  followed  down 
the  St.  Lawrence,  about  one  hundred  miles, 
and  while  practicing  at  one  place,  he  was  re- 
cognized as  a  run-away  from  prison,  by  an  in- 
dividual who  gave  him  suspicion  of  his  inten- 
tion to  apprehend  him  by  his  close  inquiries. 
To  pacify  him,  the  Doctor  said  he  promised  to 
visit  him  in  the  morning;  but  instead  of  which,he 
hired  a  man  to  bring  him  up  the  river  in  a  boat 
that  night.  He  said  that  during  his  absence, 
he  had  been  to  Quebec  to  purchase  a  fresh 
stock  of  medicine,  and  that  while  engaged  in 
trading,  the  jailor's  wife  came  into  the  store, 
but  as  it  was  in  the  evening,  by  hiding  his  face 
and  going  out  immediately,  he  escaped  obser- 
vation. In  calling  at  one  of  his  old  friends,  he 
learnt  that  there  was  a  mighty  uproar  in  the 
city  on  the  day  we  escaped,  and  that  a  large 
portion  of  the  citizens  went  out  to  look  at  the 
window  where  we  cot  out. 

The  next  morning,  in  company  with  the  Doc- 


id  been  de- 
ision. 

ss  I  felt  on 
h  I  felt  on 
the  arrival 
•ivine  Prov- 
final  deliv- 


I  :„., 


each  other, 
g  made  the 
c.  proceed- 
had  experi- 
lowed  down 
Ired  miles, 
he  was  re- 
i,  by  an  in- 
f  his  inten- 
3  inquiries, 
promised  to 
of  which, he 
er  in  a  boat 
tis  absence, 
ise  a  fresh 
engaged  in 

0  the  store, 
ng  his  face 
iped  obser- 

1  friends,  he 
roar  in  the 
lat  a  large 

look  at  the 


th  the  Doc- 


ili 


I; 


I  r-, 


;':i' 


I  ''Mv 


m     -if- 

£^.:ii:l 

LIFE  OF  \V.  B.  LIttHTON. 


191 


I 


u 


tor,  I  left  the  employ  of  my  master,  and  sailed 
to  the  Island  of  Orleans,  where  he  was  imme- 
diately called  for  to  attend  a  sick  lady,  and 
where  he  intended  to  stay  for  some  time.  It 
was  his  wish  also,  that  I  should  stay  with  him. 
To  do  this  I  positively  refused,  as  I  was  deter- 
mined to  get  to  the  United  States  as  speedily 
as  possible.  Finding  he  could  not  prevail  upon 
me  to  stay,  the  next  morning  he  engaged  two 
men  to  carry  me  across  the  St.  Lawrence,  to 
St.  Thomas,  a  distance  of  about  eight  miles. 

The  hour  arrived  for  our  departure,  and  the 
faithful  Doctor,  with  his  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
pressed  my  lips  with  the  kiss  of  true  friendship; 
wished  me  peace  and  abundant  prosperity 
through  my  life  ;  which  blessing  I  returned  in 
the  most  heartfelt  manner,  and  thanked  him  for 
his  ever  memorable  kindness.  The  scene  now 
became  the  most  solemn  and  interesting.  We 
were  now  about  to  part  forever,  in  this  world  ; 
our  eyes  gave  vent  to  floods  of  tears,  as  we 
held  and  prest  each  other  by  the  hand,  as  if  un- 
willing to  let  go  our  hold,  and  bid  farewell.  At 
last  he  commended  me  to  the  mercy  and  Provi- 
dence of  God,  when  we  took  our  farewell  leave 
of  each  other  with  affected  hearts  and  weep- 
ing eyes.  Never  shall  I  forget  that  hour  that 
gave  additional  proof  of  his  sincerity  and 
friendship.  His  was  a  friendship  that  was  gen- 
uine, and  indeed  has  rarely  its  parallel. 

'*  Friendship  !  mysterious  cement  of  thesoal, 

Sweet'ner  of  life,  and  sold'rer  of  society, 

I  owe  thee  much.     Thou  hast  deaer\'ed  from  m« 

18* 


if  I 
ill 


■J 


V.   ■. 


m 


V 


I  I 


'4 


I 


«•■ 


1^ 


192         LIFK  OF  W.  B.  LKJUTOX. 

Fair,  far  lK»yoiul  \vli;it  I  can  ever  pay: 
Oft  littve  I  proved  tlin  labor  of  thy  love, 
And  tlie  warm  etforts  of  the  gcnile  lieart, 
Anxious  to  plcabc.** 

Before,  however,  I  take  leave  of  my  friend, 
I  cannot  refrain  from  observing,  that  I  regard 
him,  as  the  instrument  of  Providence,  in  my 
deliverance  from  destitution  and  sufferinp. 
The  singular  circumstance  that  first  united  us; 
the  surprising  success  we  met  with  on  tho 
night  of  our  escape; together  with  his  interpo- 
sition in  my  last  situation,  all  conspire  to  show 
that  he  was  the  instrument  of  God's  mercy  in 
my  behalf.  The  kindness  he  manifested  to- 
wards me,  through  the  whole  of  our  acquain- 
tance, will  ever  make  his  name  dear  to  my 
memory,  and  induce  me  so  long  as  I  live,t<> 
honor  him  with  the  sincerest  gratitude. 

About  noon  I  landed  at  St.  Thomas,  and 
from  thence  traveled  up  the  river  towards  Que- 
bec, though  on  the  opposite  side.  Fearful  of 
discovery,  I  pursued  my  way  very  slowly,  from 
necessity,  as  I  was  within  eighteen  miles  of 
Quebec,  and  as  I  was  intending  to  pass  it  in 
the  night,  I  made  a  stop  for  some  time  in  the 
woods  by  the  road.  When  the  evening  ap- 
proached, I  called  at  a  house  within  nine  miles 
of  Quebec,  and  procured  refreshment;  after 
which,  I  prosecuted  my  journey.  It  now 
became  dark,  and  every  thing  was  hushed  to 
rest;  not  a  noise  was  heard;  every  thing  wa^i 
calm  and  tranquil,  which  gave  new  delight  to 
my  feelings.     At  this  still    hour  of  night  as  I 


LIFK  OF  \V.   n.  LIGIITON. 


193 


nee,  m  my 


was  pacing  iiiy  way  in  solitary  silence,  I  sud- 
denly approoched  a  young  female  rorin,w!io 
was  devoutly  engaged  on  her  kneed  in  prayer 
to  the  Father  of  mercics,at  the  foot  of  a  cross 
by  the  side  of  the  road;*  which  sight  served 
to  enkindle  a  glow  of  ardent  gratitude  and 
praise,  and  prayer  to  God  that  his  blessing 
might  attend  my  wandering  steps  through  the 
night ;  and  bless  me  with  a  happy  and  safe  de- 
liverance 

With  a  glad  heart  and  light  feet,  I  traveled 
until  I  came  to  a  piece  of  woods,  on  a  low 
swampy  piece  of  land  ;  when  1  was  greatly 
alarmed  by  an  unaccountable  sparkling,  such 
as  I  had  never  seen  before.  It  increased  so 
rapidly,  that  I  verily  thought  I  was  surrounded 
by  fire;  which  I  thought  must  be  the  effect  of 
witchcraft,  and  I  really  supposed  it  was  the 
work  of  the  devil.  As  the  sparks  flitted  close 
round  me,  I  mustered  up  courage  sufficient 
to  try  to  catch  one  of  them  in  my  hand. 
After  a  few  trials,  I  caught  something,  which 
on  examination  I  found  to  be  a  bug,  but  in- 
stantly threw  it  away,  fearing  it  was  poisonous. 
I  afterward  learnt  that  what  so  alarmed  mo 
was  nothing  but  the  fire-fly  or  lightning-bug. 

I  arrived  opposite  to  Quebec,  about  ten 
o'clock,  where  every  thing  appeared  silent, 
and  calm,  except  the  waters  of  the  river, 
which  were  smacking  briskly  against  the  sides 
of  the  vessels,  as   they  lay  at  anchor;  so  that  I 

*  Se«  paje  180. 


tij 


r 
it 


'i/ilj 


ijl 


mi 


n 


i"i 


ii^^ 


B'j  1         I; 


,'■  ill 


m.: 


194 


LIFE  OF  W.   K.  LIGHTON. 


fassed  unmolested  by  the  place  of  my  fears, 
continued  my  journey  all  night,  though  I 
found  it  very  unpleasant  traveling,  from  the 
many  furious  and  savage  dogs,  by  which  I 
was  continually  beset,  that  kept  me  sometimes 
in  fear  of  my  life.  In  the  morning  I  found 
myself  at  aconsiderable  distance  from  Quebec, 
and  notwithstanding  my  fatigue,  I  traveled 
hard  all  day,  without  the  least  discouragement 
from  fear  of  apprehension. 

After  two  days  travel,  1  was  informed  by  a 
gentleman,  who  spoke  English,  that  I  could 
gain  the  United  States,  and  save  myself 
much  travel,  by  taking  a  new  road,  lately  open- 
ed, and  leading  across  the  St.  Nicholas.  I  ac- 
cordingly followed  his  direction,  and  about 
noon  that  day,  called  at  a  little  log  house  for 
refreshment,  which  I  found  to  be  occupied  by 
an  Englishman,  from  Wakefield,  near  Leeds 
in  Yorkshire.  As  I  had  been  there  a  number 
of  times,  we  entered  into  a  very  animated  con- 
versation, about  our  homes,  &c.  In  the  midst 
of  our  interview,  we  were  interrupted  by  a 
man  who  came  in,  and  seeing  me,  asked  me 
some  questions,  and  then  charged  me  with  be- 
ing a  run-away  from  a  ship.  I  told  him  I  was 
not  a  sailor.  He  then  swore  like  an  infi- 
del, thinking  to  make  me  own  that  I  was,  that 
he  might  gain  a  trifle  by  my  apprehension. 
But  I  persisted  in  denying  it,  and  at  length  he 
left  me  to  pursue  my  journey.  At  night  after 
passing  through  a  piece  of  woods,  thirteen 
miles  in  length,  I  came  to  a  log  cabin,  where  I 


Liri:  OK  W.  B.  LIGIITOI<l. 


195 


my  fears, 
though  I 
from   the 

which  I 
lometimea 

I  found 
1  Quebec, 

traveled 
irajjement 

rmed  by  a 
it  I  Gould 
^^e  myself 
tely  open- 
as.  I  ac- 
nd  about 
house  for 
cupied  by 
ar    Leeds 

a  number 
ated   con- 

the  midst 
;ed  by  a 
asked  me 
e  with  be- 
him  I  was 
e  an  infi- 
'.  was,  that 
rehension. 

length  he 
night  after 

,  thirteen 
n,  where  I 


put  u[)  for  the  nioht.  After  partaking  of  a  lit- 
tle coarse  food,  1  lay  down  upon  the  hard  floor 
to  seek  sleep;  but  such  was  the  unmerciful  in- 
terruption I  experienced  from  the  mosquitoes, 
black  flies,  cSc.  that  instead  of  sleeping,  I  spent 
the  night  in  defending  myself  from  their  attacks. 
*  The  next  morning,  being  put  across  the  river 
by  my  host,  J  proceeded  on  my  journey. 

My  road  now  became  more  difficult  than  ev- 
er. From  its  appearance,  it  had  once  been 
cut  out,  but  was  now  overgrown  with  under- 
brush ;  and  in  some  places,  covered  with  wind- 
falls. After  traveling  half  a  day,  the  road  ter- 
minated, so  that  I  became  lost.  Still  I  pursu- 
ed my  way,and  at  last,discovered  a  track,which 
was  that  of  an  ox,  or  cow,  as  far  as  I  could 
judge.  This,  at  length,  brouglU  me  to  a  path 
where  some  labor  had  lately  been  done,  which  I 
followed  eagerly,  until  I  came  to  a  clearing, 
where  I  hastened  to  a  house,  and  found  I  had 
:;ot  to  the  St.  Francis  River.  Thus  ended  a 
journey  of  twenty-six  miles  through  the  woods. 

My  means  of  traveling  had  now  become 
exhausted  ;  having,  when  I  started,  only  seven 
shillings  and  sixpence  in, my  pocket,  and  appre- 
hending no  danger,  as  I  was  so  ♦ar  from  Que- 
bec, I  thougiit  it  best  to  gel  into  employ  as  soon 
as  I  could.  As  it  happened,  I  let  myself  the 
same  night,  to  a  man  by  the  name  of  Abecrom- 
bie,  in  K ,  twelve   miles  below  Shipton. 

*  'I'his  iinmt'rcifiil  affliction  grately  confirmed  Mr.  W— —  ■, 
statement  to  my  Fuibt-r  ua  hig  rgtiiia  from  Amtrica.  Sm 
pai^c  21st. 


1 


^1 

)  -lit 


196 


LIFIC  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


}i 


While   living   at   this    place,  I  very  narrowly 
escaped  drowning   in  the   St.  Francis,  through 
my  venturous  disposition.     This  accident  made 
me  serious  for  a  while,   and   led  me  to  pray  a 
few  times,   but   it  had  no  lasting  effect.     The 
following  anecdote  I  insert,  as  it  may  be  amus- 
ing to  my  readers,  and  may  serve  to  illustrate 
my  feelings  :    I  was  going  on  an  errand  for  my 
master,   when  my  road  lay  through  a  piece  of 
Avoods,  the  shade  of  which  was  truly   pleasant. 
While  walking  along,  musing  on    the  beauties 
of  creation,  its  pleasures,  &c.  I  espied   some- 
thing in  the  bushes,   that  appeared    very    cur- 
ious, and  thinking  it  to  be  a  knot  on  one  of  the 
sticks,    and  anxious  to  obtain  it  for  a  walking 
stick,  as  I  thought  it  would  make  a  very  beau- 
tiful one,  I  placed  my  hand  upon  it  to  see  how 
it  would  fit  the  ball  of  my  hand,  and  to  ascer- 
tain if  it  were  solid,  at  the  same  time  giving  it 
n.  pretty  severe  squeeze,  I  was  stung  so  violently 
in  the  forehead,  by   a   host  of  angry  hornets, 
who,  in  revenge   for  my   breaking  their    nest, 
drove  me  speedily  from  the  ground      This  case, 
though  simple  in  itself,  led   me  to  reflect   upon 
facts  in  the   experience  of  man  ;  it  taught  me 
that  by  being  allured  at  the  fascinating  appear- 
ance of  the  world,  we  grasp  it  as  a  prize,  and 
ere  we  are  aware,  we  are  stung  to  the  quick  by 
the  viper  pleasure.     I  thought  the  world  might 
be  aptly  compared  to  a  horneVs  nest,  and  my 
eagerness  to  grasp  it,  would,  if  not  prevented 
by  grace,  produce  an  eternal  sting  in  my  soul. 
Reader,  beware  of  grasping  after    the  world  \ 


1 


■I 


ii 


y  narrowly 
ds,  through 
lident  made 
le  to  pray  a 
ffect.     The 
ly  be  amu3- 
to  illustrate 
rand  for  my 
a  piece  of 
y   pleasant, 
he  beauties 
pied   some- 
very   cur- 
i  one  of  the 
r  a  walking 
very  beau- 
to  see  how 
d  to  ascer- 
le  giving  it 
(o  violently 
ry  hornets y 
their    nest. 
This  case, 
jfiect   upon 
taught  me 
ng  appear- 
prize,  and 
le  quick  by 
orld  might 
5/,  and  my 
prevented 
n  my  soul. 
the  world  \ 


LIFE  OF  W«  B.  LIGHTON. 


197 


Beware  of  painted  pleasure  !  Hear  the  inspir- 
ed John  :  ^^  Love  not  the  world,  neither  the 
things  that  are  in  the  world."  Hear  also  the 
poet : 

*'0,  vain  detudinnf  world  \  whom  largest  giftt^ 
Thine  emptineds  betray,  like  painted  cloudi. 
Or  wal*ry  bubbles:  ai  the  vapor  fliett 
Diipersed  by  lightest  blast,  io  fleet  thy  joyi, 
And  leave  no  trace  behind." 

I  remained  in  this  situation  Until  about  the 
twentieth  of  October,  when  I  departed,  intend- 
ing to  cross  into  the  United  States.  But,  as  I 
stood  in  need  of  some  articles  of  clothing,  at 
the  end  of  a  day's  travel,  I  let  myself  again. 
I  lived  in  that  place  about  six  weeks,  when  I 
again  set  out  for  the  States,  resolving  not  to 
step  short  of  reaching  them,  which  I  did  by  the 
way  of  Stanstead,  in  about  two  days. 

Having  crossed  the  line  which  separates  the 
British  dominions  from  this  free  Republic,  I 
felt  so  rejoiced  at  the  idea  that  my  lot  was  now 
cast  among  the  happy  sons  of  Columbia,  that  I 
could  fain  have  kissed  the  soil  on  which  I  stood. 

I  now  felt  happy  and  secure  under  the  foster- 
ing protection  of  the  EAGLE'S  WING,  a 
change  indeed,  which  none  can  know,  but 
those  who  have  suffered  under  the  savage  Paxo 
of  the  LION  !  The  flame  that  was  lit  up  in  my 
juvenile  bosom,  to  range  the  peaceful  shores 
of  Columbia,  and  spend  my  earthly  existence  in 
this  em'porinm  of  the  uorld^  was  not  extinguish- 
ed by  the  flood  of  trials  and  sufferings  through 
which  I  had  to  pass,  but  brightened  up  to  tho 


% 


■r»g 


t1l 


198 


LIFE  OF  \V.  B.  I.IGHTON. 


moment  that  gave  birth  to  my  republican  liberiyi 
Unto  God  that  guided  me  by  his  omnipotent 
band,  be  endless  praises  ! 


—  o5o^ 


CHAPTER  VI 


I    I 


mi 


An  account  of  the  succeeding  years  of  his  lifer-'tlie  dinpeiua- 
tions  of  Providence  and  grace, — qoritintied  down  to  the  pre** 
ent  time. 

If  the  reader,  tiis  \ie  has  perused  the  foregoing 
chapters,  has  feh  to  sympathize  with  me  in  my 
afflictions,  he  will  now  rejoice  with  me  in  the 
conclusion,  at  the  fortunate  change  of  my  cir- 
cumstances. 

I  now  resumed  my  original  name,  and  resolv- 
ed, as  I  trod  the  margin  of  the  American 
shores,  to  begin  my  life  anew,  upon  the  strict- 
est principles  of  integrity  and  virtue.  As  the 
foundation  of  this,  I  determined  on  learnin;^ 
a  trade,  as  I  thought  my  age  and  circumstances 
was  favorable  to  the  design,  being  then  in  the 
twenty-first  year  of  my  age.  For  this  purpose, 
I  mtended  to  travel  eastward  for  one  of  the 
Atlantic  cities,  where  I  was  in  hopes  of  meet- 
ing with  success.  Upon  arriving  at  Water- 
ford,  in  the  State  of  \'ermont,  I  was  informed 
at  a  place  where  1  stopped  over  the  night,  that 
one  of  my  countrymen  named  Furby,  a  Cabi- 
net maker,  lived  about  two  miles  from  that  place. 
Accordingly  the  next  morning,!  called  and  took 
breakfast  with  him.  Mr.  F.  had  some  inclina- 
tion to  engage  mo    to  learn  his  trade,  but  igno- 


s 


i 


l| 


•if 


LIFE  OF  W.  n.  l.XGIITON. 


199 


rant  of  my  character,  he  declined.  Ho  told 
mc  there  was  another  Englishman  in  the  vil- 
lage ,namcd  Bellamy,  a  Methodist  preacher,and 
a  tailor  by  trade.  He  advised  me  to  call  on 
him,  which  I  did,  and  soon  formed  an  attach- 
ment for  him,  such  as  countrymen  feel  towards 
each  other  when  they  meet  on  a  foreign  soil. 
I  related  to  Mr.  B.  my  desire  to  learn  a  trade, 
and  after  some  inquiry,  he  told  mc  if  I  should 
like  to  he  a  saddler,  he  thought  it  probable  I 
might  engage,  as  a  Mr.  Cobb,  a  saddler  in  the 
village,  wanted  an  apprentice.  Having  no  ob- 
jections against  the  trade,  I  waited  on  Mr.  C. 
the  next  day,  who  agreed  to  take  me  a  month 
on  trial,  and  after  the  expiration  of  that  term, 
if  we  both  should  like,  he  would  take  me  as  an 
apprentice.  As  we  were  both  satisfied  at  the 
end  of  that  term,  we  formed  an  agreement  by 
which  I  was  to  stay  with  him  three  years,  and 
in  return  he  was  to  learn  me   the  trade. 

After  living  here  a  few  months,  my  mind 
was  aroused  to  a  consideration  of  the  danger 
I  was  in,  from  having  wandered  from  the  good 
and  right  way.  I  had  no  rest,  day  or  night, 
for  the  spirit  of  God  continued  its  calls  after 
me  so  loudly,  that  I  plainly  saw  I  must  seek 
again  the  peace  of  my  soul.  I  strove  to  evade 
the  force  ef  these  convictions  by  promising  to 
be  pious  at  some  futuc  time;  but  alarmed  lest 
that  time  would  iiever  come,l  thought  at  length 
that  I  would  return  to  my  Heavenly  Father; 
yet  I  took  no  decided  stand,  until  in  the  month 
of  September  following,  when  I  attended  a 
19 


J 1 


I 


i 


200 


LIFE   OF  W.  B.  LIGHTOIf* 


M 


^  .i 


LSI 


1:! 


;ii 


Ik  :  •M 


Camp-meeting,  at  Concord  Vermont,  about 
four  miles  from  Waterford.  In  going  to  this 
place,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  seek  the  salvation 
of  my  soul:  I  saw  it  was  religion  I  wanted,  and 
religion  I  was  determined  to  obtain,  through 
God's  mercy  before  I  left   the  ground. 

The  second  day  of  the  meeting,  I  attended, 
in  company  with  Thomas  Bellamy,  a  son  of 
Mr.  B.  who  also  had  backslidden  from  God, 
and  who  manifested  so  little  regard  for  religion, 
that  I  soon  left  his  company,  (He  has  since 
become  a  pious  and  devoted  minister  of  Christ.) 
While  I  heard  the  word  preached,  my  troublo 
of  mind  increased,  and  I  felt  as  if  forsaken, 
both  by  God  and  man.  I  retired  into  the 
woods  to  pray,  but  was  followed  with  an  over- 
powering temptation,that  my  sins  were  too  great 
to  be  forgiven,  and  that  if  I  dared  to  pray,  the 
vengeance  of  the  Almighty  would  crush  me  in 
a  moment.  But  notwithstanding  these  tempta- 
tions, my  mind  was  encouraged  by  a  remem- 
brance of  the  precious  promises  contained  in 
the  bible  :  ^^Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you; 
seek,  and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock  y  and  it  shall  be 
openedunto  you: "  and  I  resolved  to  pray,  if  I 
perished  in  the  act.  I  fell  on  my  knees,  by  the 
side  of  a  log,  and  prayed,  but  without  much 
relief  or  consolation. 

In  the  evening  I  entered  the  Lanca*'* :.'  tsnt, 
where  was  a  number  of  preachers,  wno  aftci 
holding  a  class  meeting,  gave  an  invitation  to 
all  who  felt  anxious  for  their  soul's  salvation  to 
manifest  the  same  by  rising  and  coming  forward 


I 
I 


!'l! 


'■jf 


'S^ 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


201 


mt,  about 
ng  to  this 
;  salvation 
anted,  and 
1,  through 
L 

attended, 
,  a  son  of 
Vom  God, 
>r  religion, 
has  since 
)f  Christ.) 
ly  troubio 
forsaken, 
I  into  tho 
li  an  over- 
e  too  great 
►  pray,  tho 
ush  me  in 
se  tempta- 
a  remem- 
itained  in 
given  you; 
it  shall  be 
pray,  if  I 
ees,  by  the 
lout  much 

)npU:  tent, 
wao  aftci 
vitation  to 
alvation  to 
ng  forward 


I 


for  prayers,  None  rose  at  first,  though  the 
tent  was  crowded  with  those  who  were  still  la 
their  sins.  At  length  I  arose,  and  told  the  peo- 
ple that  I  was  determined  to  get  religion,  if  it 
was  to  be  found.  Upon  this  many  more  came 
forward,  and  we  all  joined  in  humble  prayer  to 
God,  the  Father  of  Spirits.  Many  found  peace 
in  their  souls,  and  went  away  rejoicing.  But, 
although  I  could  not  feel  the  clear  evidence  of 
my  acceptance,  I  felt  comforted,  and  left  the 
spot  convinced  of  the  value  and  need  of  exper- 
imental religion,  and  was  determined  to  possess 
it.  On  my  way  home,  I  considered  well  the 
determination  1  had  formed,  and  resolved  forth- 
with to  put  it  into  practice.  I  now  began  to 
live  in  the  practice  of  christian  duties,  and  to 
acquaint  myself  with  the  word  of  God.  Not 
having  much  leisure  to  devote  to  study,  I  used  to 
spend  some  time  every  night  after  nine  o'clock, 
in  reading  the  bible  upon  my  knees,  which  pro- 
ved to  be  a  very  instructive  and  profitable  em- 
ployment. 

To  assist  me  in  improving  my  mind,  and  a(^ 
ford  me  time  for  study,  my  friend  Mr.  B.,  kind- 
ly permitted  me  to  lodge  in  his  house,  and  have 
access  to  his  library,  where  I  used  to  study  un- 
til midnight.  As  I  increased  in  experience, 
my  unbelief  gave  way,  and  at  length  I  obtained 
a  clear  and  undoubted  evidence  that  God  for 
Christ's  sake,  had  blotted  out  my  sins,  and  adop- 
ted me  into  his  family.  O !  bless  the  Lor<f  for 
pardoning  mercy.  Being  desirous  of  becoming 
a  member  of  the  visible  church  of  Christ,  and 


Mil 


i 


>i 


If  '' 


202 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITOX. 


«ili 


conceiving  the  Methodist  doctrines^  and  uaages 
to  be  in  strict  accordance  with  the  principles  of 
the  gospel,  I  offered  inysclt'i  and  was  received 
into  the  class  at  Waterford,  on  probation,  by 
the  Rev.  Chauncey  Richardson. 

As  I  continued  to  study  the  way  of  salvation, 
and  to  meditate  on  the  state  of  a  perishing 
world,  I  felt  a  burning  desire  to  warn  poor  sin- 
ners to  "flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.''  To  do 
this,  I  punctually  attended  every  means  ofgrace, 
tind  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  prayed  and  ex- 
horted, as  opportunity  offered  ;  in  doing  which, 
my  soul  was  blest  and  encouraged. 

I  was  providentially  called  at  one  time  to 
visit  an  aged  gentleman  and  lady,  who  were 
both  very  near  the  borders  of  the  grave  ;  my 
labors  with  them  were  greatly  blest,  both  to  my 
soul  and  theirs.  They  were  both  awakened 
and  led  back  to  him  from  whom  they  had  stray- 
ed. From  these,  and  other  circumstances,  I 
was  impressed  with  a  conviction,  that  it  was  my 
duty  to  improve  in  public,  but  on  considering 
my  weakness  and  ignorance,  I  shrunk  from  the 
task  ;  nevertheless,  my  sincere  desire  was  to 
know  what  was  God's  will  concerning  me,  and 
that  I  was  determined  to  do  whatever  it  might  be. 

In  the  month  of  February  following,  Mr.  C. 
and  myself  parted  by  mutual  agreement,  and  I 
left  Waterford  in  search  of  new  employment. 
By  the  Providence  of  God  1  was  directed  to 
Bradford,  Vt.  where  I  found  employ  for  a  while 
m  the  shop  of  Mr.  Corliss.  Presenting  my 
certificate,  I  was  received  by  the  class  in  this 


f. 


LIFE  OF  W.  B,  LIGHTOJV. 


203 


j> 


id  usages 

iciples  of 

received 

>ation,  by 

salvation, 
perishing 
poor  sin- 
To  do 
s  ofgrace, 
i  and  ex- 
ng  which, 

B  time  to 
ivho  were 
rave  ;  my 
loth  to  my 
awakened 
had  stray- 
stances,  I 
it  was  my 
^nsidering 
i  from  the 
re  was  to 
r  me,  and 
might  be. 
g,  Mr.  C. 
ent,  and  I 
ployment. 
irected  to 
or  a  while 
nting  my 
ass  in  this 


place,  the  first  Sabbath  after  my  arrival.  Here 
I  enjoyed  many  blessed  privileges  among  my 
Christian  brethren,  especially  in  the  family  who 
employed  me,  the  heads  of  which  were  sincere 
and  devoted  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ.  Among 
other  advantages,  I  had  admission  to  the  town 
library,  as  my  master  was  librarian,  and  the 
books  kept  at  his  house. 

During  my  stay  in  this  place,  I  was  power- 
fully impressed  again  with  the  idea  it  was  my 
duty  to  improve  in  public,  and  the  more  I  re- 
sisted conviction,  the  more  powerful  it  became. 
I  accordingly  made  it  a  matter  of  fervent  prayer 
to  God  ;  having  done  this,  I  disclosed  my  feel- 
ings to  those  with  whom  1  became  most  ac- 
quainted, who  said  they  thought  it  was  my  du- 
ty to  go  forward.  Still  I  felt  unwilling  to  do 
BO,  my  talents  were  so  small,  though  I  knew 
that  many  able  ministers  of  the  gospel,  whose 
talents  now  do  honor  to  the  church  and  them- 
selves, begun  young  and  small  as  myself,  but 
by  a  course  of  untiring  study,  and  by  the  aid 
of  grace  divine,  had  risen  to  their  present  ce- 
lebrity and  worth.  Encouraged  by  these  con- 
siderations, I  divulged  my  feelings  and  views 
to  the  Rev.  P.  C.  Richmond,  who  was  preach- 
er in  change,  who  also  advised  me  to  go  for- 
ward and  improve  in  exhortation,  prayer,  &c. 
He  then  furnished  me  with  his  written  permis- 
sion to  exercise  as  an  exhorter,  &c. 

I  had  now  no  excuse  for  refraining  from  du- 
ty, and  accordingly  appointed  a  meeting  in  the 
village  on  a  week  day  evening.  When  the 
19* 


I' 


i 


V 


I 

^1 


m 


204 


LIFE  OF  \V.  B.  LIGIITON. 


:i 


9 

I'm 


3R. 

.1 


day  arrived  on  which  I  was  to  attend  my  ap- 
pointment, the  clergyman  of  the  congregational 
church  called  at  the  shop  where  I  was  at  work, 
and  after  transacting  his  business  with  my  em- 
ployer, turned  to  me  and  questioned  me  in  a 
sarcastic  manner  about  my  preaching.  He 
told  me  I  had  better  attend  some  theological 
institution  before  I  attempted  to  preach  \  and 
said  many  other  thin«is  to  discouruire  me  and 
prevent  my  going  forward  in  duty.  1  was  some- 
what staggered  at  finU,  but  after  some  little  re- 
flection, determined  to  go  forward,  believing 
the  grace  of  God  in  a  warm  heart  to  l)e  a  great- 
er assistance  than  all  the  learning  of  books  and 
colleges,  which  however,  I  believe  to  be  of 
great  advantage,  and  important  to  a  gospel 
minister. 

In  the  evening,  with  much  trepidation,  I  en- 
tered the  desk  and  spoke  to  a  large  and  atten- 
tive congregation,  from  Mark  x  17.  *^Good 
Master,  what  shall  I  do,  that  I  may  inherit  eter- 
nal life?"  The  Lord  was  present  and  blessed 
me  abundantly,  and  from  that  time  to  the  pres- 
ent, I  have  continued  to  labor  in  the  vineyard 
of  my  blessed  Redeemer  as  faithfully  as  I 
could. 

In  the  month  of  may,  1827,  I  left  my  situa- 
tion at  Bradford,  and  on  the  28th  of  the  same 
month  entered  the  employ  of  Mr.  Stevens,  on 
Sugar  Hill,  in  the  town  of  Lisbon,  N.  H.  In 
this  place  I  was  in  a  mejisure  deprived  of  the 
fellowship  of  my  brethren,  the  Methodist,  as 
there  was  no  class  within  five  miles.      Howev- 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  I.UaiTON. 


205 


my  ap- 
gational 
it  work, 
my  em- 
mc  in  a 
He 
sological 
)h  ;  and 
me  and 
as  some- 
little  re- 
)elieving 

a  great- 
ooks  and 
o  be  of 
gospel 

m,  1  cn- 

nd  atten- 
f.  "Good 
lerit  eter- 
[  blessed 
the  pres- 
vineyard 
illy    as    I 

my  situa- 
the  same 
;evens,  on 
[.  H.  In 
cd  of  the 
hodist,  as 
Howev- 


er,  I  devoted  myself  to  the  duties  which  devol- 
ved upon  me  with  the  utmost  punctuality,  and 
having  been  admitted  to  full  membership  by  the 
church  at  Lisbon,  and  had  my  commission,  as 
an  exhorter  renewed,  I  went  forward  proclaim- 
ing the  Lamb  of  God  to  all  who  came  in  my 
way.  To  increase  my  qualifications  1  applied 
myself  to  a  systematic  course  of  living,  attend- 
ing my  employ  during  my  working  hours  with 
as  much  strictness  as  if  1  had  been  watched 
over  by  a  task-master,  and  devoting  every  leis- 
ure moment  I  possessed  to  the  improvement  of 
my  mind  by  study.  To  as-^ist  me  I  procured  a 
copy  of  Dr.  A.  Clarke's  invaluable  commenta- 
ry, together  with  some  other  theological  works 
from  which  I  derived  much  valuable  instruc- 
tion. 

I  was  also  very  reserved  in  my  manner,  so 
much  so  that  doubtless  I  have  given  some  oc- 
casion to  think  that  I  was  scornful,  but  I  can 
truly  say,  I  was  actuated  by  no  other  motive 
than  a  desire  to  prevent  myself  being  led  away 
by  the  example  and  conversation  of  the  ungod- 
ly, by  whom  I  was  surrounded.  This  was 
doubly  necessary  from  the  fact  that  Mr.  S.  sold 
spirituous  liquors,  which  drew  into  his  shop  ma- 
ny a  wicked  and  profane  man,  who,  when  the 
fumes  of  their  drams  had  filled  their  brains, 
would  talk  over  their  grog-shop  divinity  until  I 
became  disgusted  with  their  conversation  and 
manners.  How  often  hare  I  heard  the  debased 
drunkard,  though  poor  and  almost  penmjless^ 
talk  in  his  drunken  hours  as  though  he  were  a 


206 


LIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


II   i 


it. 


^ 


wealthy  citizeny  a  profound  statesman  or  a  devoted 
christian!  What  n  miserable  picture  of  de- 
pravity does  a  drunkard  present!  O,  DRUNK 
ARD  !  if  this  should  meet  your  eye,  pause  and 
reflect ;  consider  that  by  drunkenness  you  low- 
er yourself  beneath  the  poor  brute,  whose  labor 
furnishes  you  with  the  means  of  indulging  your 
appetite.  Think  that  you  are  murdering  your 
poor  soul,  and  ruinitig  your  family,  if  you  have 
not  done  it  already.  Let  conscience  speak, 
and  as  she  speaks,  give  car,  and  turn  your  feet 
into  the  right  way, and  thou  shalt  save  thy  blood- 
bought  soul  from  liell.  O!  may  the  happy  day 
soon  arrive  when  this  "  liquid  Jire,^^  this  "  dis- 
tilled damnalionj^^  (for  it  deserves  no  better 
name)  shall  be  banished  into  the  oblivious  deep, 
from  whence  may  it  never  more  return  to  intox- 
icate the  brains  of  men ! 

As  I  was  thus  beset  by  profane  characters,  I 
could  not  refrain  from  administering  a  word  of 
reproof  sometimes,  for  which  I  often  received 
additional  vollies  of  oaths  and  imprecations, 
though  ultimately  it  prevented  some  from  swear- 
ing in  my  presence.* 

Added  to  this,  I  was  persecuted  by  some  be- 
cause I  studied,  which  in  their  view,  was  in- 
consistent with  the  character  of  a  minister   of 


m 


*"  It  chills  my  blood  to  hear  the  bleat  Supreme 
Rudely  appealM  to  on  each   trifling  theme. 
Maintain  your  rank,  vulgarity  despise; 
To  stoear  is  neither  hravey  polite^  nor  wise. 
You  would  not  swear  upon  a  bed  of  death : 
Reflect!  your  Maker  noto  could  stop  yoiu'  breath." 


LIFE   OF   \V.  D.  LIGIITON. 


207 


a  devoted 
of  c/c- 
RUNK 
ausc  and 
you  low- 
)se  labor 
ing  your 
ing  your 
^ou  have 
speak, 
your  feet 
ly  blood- 
ppy  day 
ats- 


as 


u 


o  better 
oils  deepy 
to  intox- 

racters,  I 
word  of 
received 
ecations, 
m  swear- 


some  be- 
r,  was  in- 
lister   of 


ith. 


it 


the  gospel,  who,  they  thought  ought  to  preach 
entire lij  by  inspiration.  It  was  reported  that  I 
had  a  large  amount  of  prayer  and  sermon 
books,  from  which  1  committed  to  memory  all 
my  public  improvements.  This  weak  and  fool- 
ish report  soon   net  with  the  fate  it  deserved. 

But  though  I  was  deprived  of  fellowship  (ex- 
cept occasionally)with  the  members  of  my  own 
church,  I  enjoyed  many  privileges  among  my 
Frec-Will-Baptist  brethren,  who  appeared  to 
treat  me  with  every  mark  of  brotherly  Iove,and 
whose  affection  I  shall  ever  remember.  But 
this  love  and  affection  at  length  became  cold, 
as  evidently  appeared  in  a  great  many  from 
their  apparent  disfellowship  toward  me,  from 
what  cause  I  knew  not,  unless  it  was  they  be- 
lieved the  false  reports  my  enemies  had  circula- 
ted respecting  my  having  prayer  and  semicni 
books,  from  which  1  learned  all  my  public  im- 
provements. Any  other  cause  1  never  was 
sensible  of,  as  on  the  strictest  investigation  of 
my  actions,  I  could  discover  nothing  1  had  said 
or  done  which  could  be  a  just  cause  of  offence. 

These  circumstances  became  a  very  serious 
trial  to  me  ;  they  disquieted  my  mind  ;  robbed 
me  in  a  great  measure  of  my  happy  enjoyments, 
and  sometimes  almost  led  me  to  believe  there 
was  no  religion  ;  and  while  under  them  led  me 
to  desire  to  change  my  situation,  and  enter  the 
married  state,  for  I  felt  alone  and  solitary. 
Amid  the  thousands  who  surrounded  me,  I  had 
no  one  into  whose  breast  I  could  pour  my  woes 
and  from  whose  sympathy  I  could  derive   en- 


I. 


t 


f'At 


I. 


vt 


208 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


#■■: 


couragement,  or  with  whom  I  could  claim  kin- 
dred.    With  the  poet  I  could  say  : 

«»TKore  are  no  friends  nor  fatliers  hero, 
Nor  spouses  kind  to  smile  on  me ; 
A  brother's  voice  I  cannot  hear, 
A  mother's  form  I  never  see ; 
A  sister's  love  I  may  not  share, 
While  here  in  exile  still  I  roam; 
O  could  I  breathe  my  native  air. 
Beneath  that  dear  ancestral  dome, 

I'd  rest  content, 

'Till  life  was  spent. 
Nor  seek  abroad  a  better  home." 

I  also  wrote  again  to  my  parents,  stating  to 
them  my  feelings  and  prospects,  and  expostula- 
ting with  them  for  their  neglect,  as  I  supposed 
they  had  received  my  former  letters,  and  from 
being  offended  with  me,  refused  to  answer  my 
epistles.  This  however,  appeared  ultimately 
not  to  be  the  case,  as  the  reader  will  hereafter 
learn. 

During  the  passage  of  my  letter  I  continued 
to  improve  my  gift  and  to  get  acquainted  more 
extensively  with  the  families  around  me. 
Among  these  families  was  that  of  Mr.  N.  Judd, 
who,  though  they  were  ranked  among  the  medi- 
ocrity of  the  honest  and  industrious,  were  rich 
in  faith  and  in  the  knowledge  of  divine  things. 
My  first  acquaintance  with  this  family  was .  in 
the  month  of  August,  18^7,  and  in  the  month 
of  April  following,  I  was  united  in  the  bands 
of  matrimony,  with   Susannah,  their  daughter. 

A  few  weeks  previous  to  my  marriage  I  was 
informed  by  a  gentleman  that  there  was  a  letter 
for  me  in  the   Fost  Office,  and  he  concluded 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


209 


aim  kin- 


tdting  to 
xpostula- 
supposed 
Eind  from 
iswer  my 
iltimately 
hereafter 

continued 
ited  more 
>und  me. 
N.  Judd, 
the  medi- 
/ere  rich 
le  things. 
\y  was .  in 
he  month 
the  bands 
[laughter. 
Lge  I  was 
LS  a  letter 
oncluded 


from  the  superscription,  as  it  was  directed  to 
North  America,  that  it  was  from  England.  I 
nastened  to  obtain  it  when  it  proved  to  be  from 
my  father,  and  as  it  may  tend  to  give  the  read- 
er an  idea  of  his  feelings  I  will  insert  it. 

Frampton,  Dec.  1st,  1827. 

My  Dear  Son  :  I  received  your  letter,  dated 
October  6th,  1827,  and  am  very  much  surprised 
that  you  have  not  received  any  letter  from  me, 
which  is  the  cause  of  your  most  unhappy  com- 
plaint. I  have  received  many  letters  from  you, 
to  which  I  have  immediately  sent  answers. 
Your  information  that  you  have  not  received 
any  since  you  left  the  Isle  of  Wight  gives  me 
but  poor  satisfaction.  The  cause  of  these  fail- 
ures, is  no  doubt,  owing  to  the  great  distance 
which  separates  us  from  each  other,and  my  let- 
ters have  probably  been  lost  on  the  way. 

Dear  Son,  your  request  has  been  gratified, 
in  that  I  have  attentively  perused  your  letter, 
and  in  the  first  place,  I  commend  you  to  God, 
and  pray  earnestly  that  he  may  be  your  guide, 
protector,  and  redeemer  ;  that  you  may  honor 
and  fear  him  all  your  life  ;  be  a  useful  and  dig- 
nified member  of  society  ;  and  eventually,  that 
we  may  all  meet  in  Heaven,  where  nothing 
shall  separate  us  from  that  union  and  felicity . 
which  has  been  purchased  for  us  by  our  blessed 
Redeemer. 

Let  me  also  afliectionately  advise  you,  as  you 
have  escaped  your  unpleasant  condition  and 
situation  for  one  of  a  more  social  and  endear- 


I 


l<!  ' 


I 


n 


I"'  -I 


Wfk. 


U   ii  'i ! 


1. 


T 


210 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


ing  character,  to  preserve  it  with  deep  felt 
gratitude.  Use  every  effort  to  make  it  agreea- 
ble to  you,  and  be  content  in  those  fortunate 
circumstances  in  which  Providence  and  the  mer- 
cy of  God  have  placed  you. 

You  will  accept  the  ardent  love  and  best 
wishes  of  your  parents,  and  also  the  same  sen- 
timent of  respect  from  all  the  family.  We 
should  be  glad  to  see  you  return  to  your  native 
land,  which  may  God  grant.  This  leaves  us 
all  enjoying  good  heahh,  except  your  mother, 
whose  weak  constitution  obliges  me  to  say,  at 
times  her  health  is  very  precarious.  Your 
cousin  James  L — — ,  of  S.,  died  about  twelve 

months  ago.     Your  brother  J is  no   better 

of  his  lameness.  May  this  find  you  in  the  en- 
joyment of  health,  and  O  may  God  be  with  m} 
transmarine  son  ! — and  bless  and  save  you  ir 
his  heavenly  kingdom,  which  is  the  prayer  of, 
Dear   Son.         Your  respected  Father, 

WM.  LIGHTON. 

The  perusal  of  this  letter  had  no  small  influ- 
ence on  my  feelings,  and  I  regarded  the  con- 
veyance of  my  letter  as  an  act  of  God's  good- 
ness towards  me.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had 
heard  of  my  dear  parents  for  seven  years.  The 
idea  that  they  no  longer  cared  for  my  welfare 
was  removed,  and  with  it  a  load  of  sorrow. 
Since  that  period,  I  have,  through  the  blessing 
of  Providence,  received  two  or  three  commu- 
nications every  year  from  them,  and  nothing 
subsists  between  us  but  feelings  of  the  most 
perfect  friendship  and  affection. 


ep  felt 
igreea- 
rtunate 
tie  mer- 


id  best 
me  sen- 
.  We 
ir  native 
ives  us 
mother, 
►  say,  at 
Your 
;  twelve 

0  better 

1  the  en- 
with  m> 

you   ir- 
rayer  of, 
er, 
TON. 

all  influ- 
i  the  coii- 
I's  good- 
[iie  1  had 
jars.  The 
f  welfare 
)f  sorrow. 
5  blessing 
5  commu- 
d  nothing 
the  most 


{/.m:;-. 


\^h 


M 


I? 


fr 

. 

.1  ' 

1  H 

W.i:  f    "  -1 

i|f;:  f 

lii:-' 

LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


211 


!^ 


My  term  of  hire  having  expired,  I  went  to 
live  with  my  wife's  father,  according  to  a  pre- 
vious agreement  ;  and  as  he  was  advanced  in 
life,  and  infirm  in  body,  I  took  the  farm,  and 
agreed  to  support  them  through  life  ;  in  addi- 
tion to  which,  I  received  ninety-six  dollars  a 
year  from  my  father-in-law,  granted  to  him  by 
government,  for  a  reward  of  his  services  during 
the  revolution. 

In  this  situation,  we  lived  in  the  most 
harmonious  and  happy  manner;  a  perfect  con- 
trast to  the  misery  of  my  former  days.  Then, 
I  was  the  subject  of  the  most  inexpressible 
hardships,  doomed  to  bear  the  frowns  of  tyrants 
and  the  insults  of  cruel  masters.  Now,  thanks 
to  a  merciful  Providence,  I  was  free  from  my 
enemies,  had  a  happy  home,  and  enjoyed  the 
best  of  all  earthly  comforts,  a  pious  and  godly 
companion,  who  was  as  dear  to  me  as  my  own 
soul.  Added  to  this,  I  was  amid  friends,whose 
generous  kindness  will  ever  endear  them  to 
my  memory;  among  neighbors  who  had  a  high 
regard  for  the  things  of  God,  and  whose  hearts 
were  touched  with  a  Saviour's  love.  These 
were  blessings  once  foreign  to  my  expectations, 
but  now  enjoyed  in  fond  reality.  O,  what 
shall  I  render  to  God  for  all  his  goodness  to- 
wards me. 

**  I'll  praise  liim  while  he  lends  me  breathi 
And  when  my  voice  is  lost  in  death, 
Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  powers: 
Mv  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  past, 
While  life,  and  thought,  and  being  last, 
Or  immortality  endures. " 


I 


j 


i 


212 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


A  few  months  after  I  wrote  my  answer  to 
my  father's  first  letter,  I  received  the  following 
from  him,  which  I  beg  leave  to  insert,  as  it 
breathes  so  much  of  the  spirit  of  affection  and 
love.''^ 

Framplon  Eiig.  Oct,   15,  1828. 

Dear  Son  :    Your   kind  letter  was  received 
with    great    pleasure,  and  O!  what    inexpressi- 
ble joy  I    have  had  in  perusing  it,  to    find  that 
your  receive  my   letters  at  last,  after  the  num- 
bers I  have  sep*^  these  seven  years.     It  affords 
me  much  happiness  to  find  you  are  enjoying  good 
health,  and  also  that  you   are    married  ;    but 
above  all  it    fills  my  soul  with  the  greatest  pos- 
sible satisfaction  to  hear  that  you  love  your  God 
and  Saviour,  and  feel  a  deep  interest  for  his  glo- 
ry, 0,may  the  Lord  bless  and  preserve  you  unto 
his  holy  kingdom.     As  I  am   somewhat  confi- 
dent you  will  receive  this  letter,  I  shall  briefly 
state  some  things  you  no  doubt  will  be  glad  to 
hear.     I  still  live  on  the  farm  I  did  when  you 
left  me — have  purchased  the   house  and   land 
ajoining.     I  also  carry  on  the  business  of  Coal- 
merchant.     I  have  one  yard  at  Wyberton,  and 
one  at  Boston  ;  but  I  find  it   rather  dificult  to 
carry  on   business  this  year,  owing  to  the  dis- 
tressing state  of  things. 

I   should    like   to     accept    your   invitation 

♦  It  is  with  much  regret,  that  I  am  not  able  to  give  my  let- 
ters with  those  of  my  father's.  I  was  not  aware  they  would 
ever  be  needed;  consequently  was  not  careful  to  retain  the  cop- 
ies; and  am  th-'refore,  only  able  to  give  a  few  of  his. 


LIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


213 


and  emigrate  to  America,  but  my  homey  my 
native  Isle  has  a  charm,  almost  too  powerful  to 
admit  of  a  seperaton,  in  this  my  advanced  stage 
of  life.  As  yet,  I  know  not  how  I  shall  act.  I 
am  not  able  to  determine,  at  present,  so  as  to 
give  you  a  satisfactory  answer,  but  return  you 
my  sincere  thanks  for  your  tenderness  towards 
me. 

England,!  think,  is  reducing  very  fast, Banks 
are  failing  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  in 
consequence  of  which,  and  the  drouth  of  1826, 
many  respectable  farmers  are  reduced  to  a  state 
of  beggary,  and  the  country  presents  but  a  dis- 
mal scene  of  wretchedness.  Dear  Son  :  I 
wish  you  would  write  often,  and  give  me  every 
account  of  America  you  can,  as  I  am  anxious 
to  hear.  Let  me  know  how  you  are  situated, 
and  how  far  you  are  from  Boston,  New  York, 
and  Philadelphia. 

In  closing  this,  I  commend  you  to  Almighty 
God,  who  alone  is  able  to  watch  over  and  bring 
you  to  his  kingdom.  O,  may  he  bless  and  en- 
lighten you  as  to  your  duty,  that  you  may  live 
a  devoted  and  useful  life.  We  are  all  well, 
and  all  join  in  giving  our  love  to  you,  and  your 
dear  wife  and  her  relatives,praying  if  we  should 
nevei*  meet  each  other  on  earth,  we  may  be  so 
unspeakably  happy  as  to  meet  in  heaven,  to  re- 
ceive a  crown  of  glory,  where  we  may  mingle 
our  friendly  souls  in  praising  God  forever, 
through  Jesus  Christ. 

I  am,  dear  son,  your  very 

affectionate  father, 

WM.  LIGHTON. 
20* 


•it 


M.  . 


I   »  ■. 


i     : 


M, 


214 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


Having  attended  to  improve  my  talent  as  an 
exhorter  for  about  two  years, — with  the  advice 
of  my  brethren,  I  at  length  obtained  license  to 
preach,    as   a  local  preacher,  at   a  quarterly 
meeting  conference,  holden  at    Lisbon,  April 
25th,  1829,  signed  in  behalf  of  the  conference, 
by  the     Rev.    John    Lord,   Presiding   Elder 
From  this  renewal  of  my  commission,  I  felt  the 
solemn    importance  of  honoring  it  to  the  glory 
of  God.     O,  may  he  forbid  that   I  should  be 
slack  in  warnmg  the  w-icked  *'  to  flee  the  wrath 
to  come  !"  Save  me,  O  Lord  from  every  prin- 
ciple  of  error,  from  the  love  of  the  world,  and 
every  thing  else  that  cannot  bear  to  be   tested 
by  thy  holy  word,  and  by  the  things  of  eternity. 
After  receiving  my  license    as   a   preacher,  I 
wrote  to  my   parents,  in  which  I   acquainted 
them  with  my  calling,  as  a  gospel  minister,  &c. 
The  following  is  their  answer,  which  I  received 
in  the  month  of  December,  following  : 

Frampiorij  near  Boston,  Aug.  8,  1829. 

Dearly  Beloved  Son  :  I  began  to  think  the 
time  long  since  I  received  a  letter  from  you  ; 
but  the  time  has  arrived  in  which  I  have  receiv- 
ed yours  :  it  came  to  hand  Aug.  7th,  1829. 
Nothing  gives  me  more  satisfaction  than  to  hear 
from  you  ;  believe  me  my  son,  when  I  say  it 
is  a  happiness  I  enjoy  above  every  other  pleas- 
ure of  the  world.  Yes,  thank  God,  I  can  now 
retire  to  my  closet,  and  hold  converse  with  my 
dutiful  son,  while  I  read  your  epistle,  O,  what 
a  delightful  hour  !  How  much  I  am  obligated 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITOIS. 


215 


it  as  an 
\  advice 
:ense  to 
Liarterly 
I,  April 
ference, 
Elder 
:  felt  the 
le  glory 
lould  be 
le  wrath 
iry  prin- 
arld,  and 
e   tested 
eternity, 
sacher,  I 
iquainted 
ister,  &c. 
received 


, 1829. 

think  the 
)m  you  ; 
/e  receiv- 
th,  1829. 
an  to  hear 

I  say  it 
her  pleas- 
L  can  now 

with  my 
O,  what 

obligated 


to  praise  the  Lord  who  has  permitted  me  to  see 
this  moment.  The  pleasure  I  have  received 
from  perusing  your  kind  letter,  has  animated 
and  filled  my  soul  with  such  exquisite  happi- 
ness, as  words  cannot  express.  And  why  all 
this  joy  and  gratitude  ?  but  because  I  have  rea- 
son to  believe  my  long  lost  son  is  found  ;  that 
you  love  God  and  the  way  of  life  and  salvation; 
but  above  all,  that  you  are  favored,  by  God's 
blessing  and  mercy,  the  privilege  of  preaching 
the  gospel  of  the  Son  of  God.  O,  this  is  too 
much  for  a  father  to  bear  !  So  thoughtless  was 
you  about  your  soul  before,  and  so  regardless 
of  friendly  advice,  and  leaving  the  bosom  of 
friends  and  home,  as  you  did,  who  can  help  re- 
joicing ?  Ah  !  who  could  ever  thought  of  such 
a  change  ?  Truly,  "  with  God  all  things  are 
possible." 

With  this  feeling  of  soul,  I  eagerly  clasp  my 
pen  to  communicate  with  you,  in  the  form  of  a 
letter,  and  hasten  to  lose  no  time  in  so  pleasing 
an  employ.  I  have  much  to  say  by  way  of  en- 
couragement to  you,  but  I  cannot  express  my- 
self. Let  me  advise  you  to  be  humble  ;  abstain 
from  every  thing  that  does  not  bear  the  impress 
of  that  blessed  gospel  you  profess  to  preach. 
Live  near  to  God,  and  then  I  have  no  fears 
concerning  your  prosperity  and  usefulness. 

I  shall  now  commence  giving  you  a  summa- 
ry of  the  unhappy  state  of  your  native  land, 
which  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  be  anxious  to 
know.  England  is  indeed  in  a  suffering  situa- 
tion, so  much  so,  that  I  cannot  help  contrasting: 


216 


LIFE    OF    VV.    B.    LIGIITOIV. 


-\   -I 


j('    ' 


her  onco  happy  state  to  her  present  deplorable 
wretchedness.  She  once  enjoyed  more  pleas- 
ure than  any  Kingdom  in  Europe,  and  was  the 
garden  of  the  universe,  the  place  ofeivilizaticn 
and  arts,  whose  manufacturies  would  allow  no 
rival,  and  whose  ships  spread  their  sails  over 
the  whole  four  quarters  of  the  globe.  Her  tcealih 
was  stupendous  J  and  her  people  happy.  The 
peasantry  of  England,  who  were  once  the  glory 
and  pride  of  the  nation,  are  now  sunk  into  the 
lowest  state  of  poverty  ;  they  are  indeed  the 
most  miserable  of  men  ;  they  are  turned  into 
'  paupers  and  beggars.  By  what  }  By  the  in- 
supportable and  heavy  weight  of  TAXATION. 
Their  hearts  have  sunk  under  the  oppressive 
burden,  that  they  are  no  more,  and  will  be  no 
more,except  some  speedy  remedy  is  on  foot. 
So  oppressive  is  the  present  state  of  things 
that  there  has  been  more  burglaries  and  rob- 
beries committed  than  ever  man  remembered, 
which  arises  chiefly  from  TAXATION,  that 
^^  dead  weight.^^  The  farmers  are  paying  high 
rents,  and  parish  rates  become  so  high  that 
they  can  scarce  be  said  to  live.  England  can 
never  prosper,  as  it  has  done,  so  long  as  taxa- 
tionsLiid  PAUPERISM  prevails  in  the  land. 
Other  countries  have  got  its  mode  of  manufac- 
turing, and  are  in  consequence  thereof,  less 
burdened  with  that  destructively  "  dead  weight," 
so  that  they  can  bring  their  goods  to  England 
and  have  a  renumerative  profit.  Such  my  son, 
is  the  deplorable  situation  of  the  unhappy  En- 
glisman.     As  for  my  part,  I  am  in  a  prosperous 


ll 


LIFE  OF  W.  U-  LIGHTON. 


217 


rable 
il  cas- 
ts the 
nation 
ow  no 
3  over 
tcealth 
The 
I  glory 
ito  the 
;d  the 
d  into 
he   in- 

noN. 

ressive 
be    no 
1  foot, 
things 
d  rob- 
ibered, 
N,  that 
ig  high 
rh  that 
nd  can 
IS  taxtt' 
Q  land, 
anufac- 
lof,  less 

England 
ny  son, 
ipy  En- 
sperous 


situation,  for  which  I  thank  God  ;  but  I  feel 
for  the  laborer,  his  situation  is  so  extremely 
critical  that  it  claims  the  sympathy  of  every 
christian  and  philanthropist.  We  are  paying 
about  two  hundred  pounds  per  cent  TAXA- 
TION, and  the  inlerest  of  the  national  debt  is 
about  one  pound  five  shillings  per  second,  (or 
^5y55.)  This,  my  dear  son,  is  bad  news  of  our 
country.  May  the  Lord  save  us  from  the 
dreadful  evils  which  threaten  us  ! 

But  I  must  close  after  acquainting  you  with 
the  state  of  the  family.  We  are  all  enjoying 
good  health,  which  to  me  is  a  blessing  I  cannot 
be  too  thankful  for.  I  wish  you,  and  all  yours, 
may  be  enjoying  the  same  good.  Your  broth- 
ers and  sisiers  respect  you  as  very  dear  to  them, 
and  hope  you  will  accept  their  humble  tribute, 
which  is  their  undivided  love.  Present  also, 
the  same  endearing  sentiment  to  your  dear  com- 
panion, whom  they  respect  as  their  worthy  and 
beloved  sister.  Also  accept  our  love  and  make 
it  acceptable  to  our  daughter  ( your  wife)  and 
every  member  of  your  family.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
B send  you  their  kind  respects.  The  wor- 
thy and  respected  John  Y ,  Esq.  has  gone 

the  way  of  all  the  earth.  He  died  on  the  8th 
of  May  last,  after  a  severe  illness.  He  was 
beloved  in  his  life,  and  lamented  in  his  death, 
by  all  his  parishoners,  and  I  believe  has  gone 
to  live  with  him  who  is  King  of  kings  and 
Lord  of  lords.  Please  write  immediately 
And  now  may  the  God  of  peace  be  with  you, 


218         LIFE  OP  W,  B.  LIGHTON. 


P     ]: 


,'r.        I 


and  remain  with  you,  and  keep  you   from  all 
danger  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

I  remain  your  most  afl^ectionate  father, 

WM.  LIGHTON. 

The  contents  of  this  letter  filled  me  with  the 
highest  concern  for  the  general  happiness  of 
my  father,  and  his  family,  that  I  wrote  him  an 
impressive  letter,  addressing  him  upon  the  sub« 
ject  of  emigrating  to  this  country,  and  urged 
him  most  vehemently  not  to  delay,  but  to  pro- 
ceed forthwith  as  soon  as  convenient.  One  of 
his  letters  in  answer  to  this  subject  is  as  fol- 
lows : — 

Frampton,  Oct  Slaty  1831. 
My  Dear  Son  :  I  received  your  most  grate- 
ful and  intelligent  letter,  dated  July  10th,  and 
am  truly  enamored  with  your  simplicity  and 
kind  treatment.  It  breathes  a  sincerity,  too 
powerful  to  be  doubted,  that  fills  me  with  true 
parental  affection,  and  sincere  respect  to  a  lov- 
ing and  dutiful  son,  now  in  a  transmarine  stata 
*        #        #        #         *         #         # 

I  receive  your  kind  invitation  with  warm 
emotion,  and  should  like  to  come  to  America, 
to  pass  the  rest  of  my  life  with  you  in  your 
FREE  REPUBLICAN  country ,where  peace 
and  retirement  alone  can  be  found,  to  refresh 
and  relieve  the  sons  of  suffering  oppression. 
But  my  son,  the  thought  of  leaving  home,  and 
friends,to  traverse  the  ocean,in  quest  of  a  more 
free  country,  at  this  age  of  my^  life,  might  be 
probably  an  imprudent  step.     I  know  not  what 


LIFi:  OF  VV.  D.  LIGinON. 


219 


n  all 

ather, 

)N. 

hthe 
ss  of 
m  an 
;  sub- 
urged 
o  pro- 
)ne  of 
as  fol- 

831. 
;  grate- 
th,  and 
ty  and 
ty,  too 
ith  true 
>  a  lov- 
e  state. 
# 

1  warm 
merica, 
m  your 
e  peace 
refresh 
iression. 
me,  and 
'  a  more 
light  be 
lot  what 


to  say  any  further  upon  the  subject,  but  would 
give  you  my  hearty  thanks,  for  your  kind  invi- 
tation, and  pray  the  Lord  he  may,  by  his  divine 
influence,  bring  us  to  heaven,  where  waves  and 
billows  shall  no  more  rise  between  us,  to  ob- 
struct us  from  the   enjoyment  of  our   beloved 

fraternity. 

#  #  #  «         #         #         # 

Your  most  affectionate  father, 

WM.  LIGHTON. 

Finding  my  letter  did  not  have  its  desired 
effect,  except  that  it  put  him  to  thinking  upon 
the  subject,  I  wrote  again  upon  the  same  sub- 
jecty  and  received  the  following  : 

Frampton  Sept.  2d,  1833. 
Affectionate  Son  :  Through  the  biessing 
of  God,  we  received  your  important  communi- 
cation, dated  April  24th,  1833.  Your  argu- 
ment for  me  to  come  over  to  you,  is  very  strong 
and  sincere,  but  I  cannot  at  present,  determine 
so  as  to  give  you  any  decisive  satisfaction 
about  the  subject.  Yet,  let  nr^e  tell  you,  my 
dear  son,  the  ties  of  parental  affection  are  so 
strong  as  almost,  at  times,  to  induce  me  to  re- 
solve upon  the  undertaking.  I  should  be  very 
happy  to  see  you  all,  and  to  enjoy  sweet  solace, 
and  end  my  days  in  your  free  and  happy  coun- 
try, and  in  the  bosom  of  an  affectionate  and 
grateful  son,  but  the  distance  seems  too  iar, 
and  the  journey  accompanied  with  a  degree  of 
mental  anxiety  and  danger,  which  are  the  only 
difficulties  which  seem  to  prevent  that   happy 


220 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


ill 


meeting,  which  would  be  accompanied  with  all 
the  feelings  of  a  true  philanthropist. 


# 


* 


# 


* 


Our  country  is  progressing  in  oppression  and 
wretchedness,  which  almost  induces  me  to  be- 
lieve its  fate  is  fixed.  The  reform  bill  has  prov- 
ed a  dead  letter,  at  least  at  present  ;  and  in 
consequence  of  this  failure,  the  people  have 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all  the  plans  of  reforma- 
tion. What  will  be  the  consequence  I  know 
not,  but  1  fear  it  will  result  in  a  bloody  contest. 
May  the  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us,  and  deliver 
us  from  the  evil.  We  are  all  in  sentiment  as 
usual,  and  enjoying  good  health.  Accept  our 
love  and  best  wishes.  Write  at  every  oppor- 
tunity. And  may  the  propitious  smiles  of  our 
heavenly  Father  attend  you,  and  your  beloved 
family  forever,  which  is  the  prayer  of 

Dear  Son,  your  most  affectionate  and 
honored  father, 

WM.  LIGHTON. 

About  the  time  I  wrote  to  my  father  last, 
I  suffered  by  an  unfortunate  circumstance,  and 
lost  the  greater  part  of  my  property.  It  might 
be  well  to  give  some  minute  particulars,relative 
to  the  circumstance.  I  had  lived  in  my  mar- 
ried state  between  five  and  six  years,  in  the 
most  happy  and  contented  manner,  during 
which  time,  we  were  blest  with  three  children, 
a  son  and  two  daughters.  As  I  was  located 
where  my  trade  was  of  but  little  service,  and 
feeling  disposed  to  devote  myself  more  exclu 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGIITON. 


221 


h  all 


nand 
)  be- 
prov- 
nd   in 
have 
brma- 
know 
jntest. 
leliver 
ent  as 
jpt  our 
oppor- 
of  our 
»eloved 

nd 

ON. 

ler  last, 
ce,  and 
it  might 
relative 
ny  mar- 
3,  in  the 

during 
children, 

located 
dee,  and 
e  exclu 


sively  to  it,  I  concluded  to  sell  my  farm,  and 
establish  myself  where  it  would  be  of  value.  I 
succeeded  in  selling  my  place  to  a  Mr.  M'Bain 
Jameson,  who  had  ever  been  one  of  the  most 
upright  of  men,  and  having  no  apprehension 
of  his  dishonesty,  I  confidently  reposed  my 
property  in  his  hands,  without  any  other  securi- 
ty than  his  notes.  Knowing  he  had  obtained 
the  command  of  my  farm,  he  vras  influenced  by 
some  poor,  miserable,  and  notorious  wretches, 
to  sell  it  and  leave  the  country.  He  did  so, 
and  in  consequence,  out  of  seven  hundred  dol- 
lars, the  price  of  my  farm,  I  lost  five  hundred 
and  twenty-five.  He  proceeded  with  his  family 
to  the  West,  where,  for  aught  I  know,  he  is  at 
present. 

This  unfortunate  circumstance  threw  me  into 
deep  trouble,  and  was  like  a  cloud  over  my 
mind,  darkening  my  prospects.  However,  by 
the  grace  of  God,I  was  able  to  pursue  a  course, 
which  tended  to  promote  my  welfare  in  every 
respect.  Although  I  was  somewhat  involved, 
I  can  say,  to  the  honor  of  my  creditors,  they 
never  injured  so  much  as  a  hair  of  my  head. 
Truly,  the  Lord  is  merciful  and  good,  in  that 
he  overrules  every  thing  for  my  peace.  I  do 
truly  pity  the  man  who  was  the  cause  of  my 
misfortune,  and  those  who  influenced  him,  for, 
with  all  their  gain,  I  am  better  oflf  than  they, 
for  I  possess  a  conscience  clear  from  guilt.  My 
prayer  to  God  is,  that  they  may  repent  of  the 
evil  they  have  done,  and  be  saved. 
21 


222 


LIFE   OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


1'^ 


■;  ■  1 


In  the  'ensuing  fall,  I  hired  a  house  in  the 
town  of  Landaff,  about  five  miles  from  my  for* 
mer  residence,  where,  by  the  smiles  of  a  kind 
and  indulgent  Providence,!  have  been  blessed| 
far  beyond  my  expectations,  with  food  and  rai* 
ment,  and  what  is  better  than  all,  with  spiritual 
prosperity.  Truly,  my  trouble  has  been  sancti- 
fied :  I  have  been  taught  the  fallacy  of  earthly 
goods,  and  led  to  trust  in  him  who  is  a  well 
spring  of  life,  and  whose  resources  can  never 
fail. 

Thus,  dear  reader,  I  have  presented  you  with 
a  plain,  unvarnished  detail  of  the  events  of  my 
life,  hoping,  that  if  you  are  still  the  subject  of 
parental  government,  or  in  a  state  of  nonage, 
you  will  be  careful  how  you  treat  lightly  the  ad- 
vice of  your  parents.  Let  all  my  difficulties, 
act  as  beacons  to  you.  O,  beware  of  folly  ! 
"  Shun  every  appearance  of  evil."  Give  your 
heart  to  God.  ''  In  all  your  ways  acknowledge 
him,  and  he  will  direct  your  paths."  Pov.  iii.6. 

I  rejoice  that  I  am  permitted  to  close  this 
narrative  on  my  birth-day  !  Thirty  years  have 
rolled  over  my  head  !  They  are  gone  forever  ! 
0,what  wondersGod  has  wrought  for  me,through 
these  thirty  years  of  my  life.  I  have  had  my 
lot  of  sufferings,  and  difficulties,  from  the  hands 
of  wicked  and  unfeeling  men.  I  have  felt  their 
frowns  and  their  wrath  ;  but  God  has  interpos- 
ed, rescued,  and  saved  me  from  my  impend- 
ing fate,  and  brought  me  to  a  land  of  liberty  and 
peace  ;  and  has  given  me  affectionate  and  dear 
friends.     Truly  God  has  been  my  refuge,  a 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


223 


present  help  in  time  of  trouble  ;  and  unworthy 
as  I  am,  I  will  trust  in  him  evermore. 

It  will  not  be  long  before  I  shall  sleep  the 
sleep  of  death.  O,  that  I  may  have  my  Saviour 
IQ  my  heart,  and  that  my  God  may  sustain  me 
in  a  dying  hour  ;  and  grant  me  a  triumphant 
resurrection  to  a  glorious  immortality.  O,  may 
ly  while  I  live  on  the  earth,  live  to  the  glory  of 
my  blessed  Master.  May  I  ever  be  dutiful, 
and  labor  for  the  salvation  of  precious,  immor- 
tal souls.  May  the  Lord  "  so  teach  me  to  num- 
ber my  days  that  I  may  apply  my  heart  unto 
wisdom." 

"A  i*^  "^  more  Reeling  years,  and  what  a 
change  i^  hat  new  scenes  will  break  in  upon 
our  raviriiied  vision  !  If  I  live,  I  shall  see 
changes  !  When  I  die — and  die  I  must,  I 
shall  see  as  I  am  seen,and  know  as  I  am  known, 
by  the  inhabitants  of  a  world  of  Spirits  :  and 
O,  what  a  change  !  to  be  an  inhabitant  of  a 
world  of  Spirits  I" 

"  Thoo  must  expire,  my  soul»  ordain'd  to  range 
Through  unexperiencM  scenes,  and  mystVies  strange: 
Dark  the  event,  and  dismal  the  exchange. 
But  when  compelPd  to  leave  this  House  of  clay. 
And  to  an  unknown  somewhere,  wing  thy  way; 
When  time  shall  be  eternity,  and  thou 
Shalt  be,  tliou  know'st  not  what,  nor  where,  nor  how» 
Trembling  and  pale,  what  wilt  thou  see  or  dol 
Amazing  state! — No  wonder  that  we  dread 
The  thoughts  of  death,  or  faces  of  the  dead: 
His  black  retinue,  sorely  strikes  our  mind ; 
Sickness  and  pain  before,  and  darkness  all  behind. 

Some  courteous  ghost,  the  secret  then  reveal; 
Tell  US  what  yoti  have  felt,  and  we  must  feel. 
You  warn  us  of  approaching  deatli,  and  why 


224         LIFE   OF   W.  B.  LIGIITON. 

Will  you  not  teach  iis  what  it  i3  to  die] 
But  having  shot  tlie  gulph,  you  love  to  view 
tiuuceeding  spirits,  plunged  along  like  you; 
Nor  lend  a  frichdly  hund  to  guide  them  through. 

When  dire  disease  shall  cut, or  age  untie 
The  knot  of  life,  and  suiTer  us  to  die; 
When  after  some  delay,  sonic  trembling  strife, 
The  sonl  stands  quiv'ring  on  the  ridge  of  lite; 
With  Fear  and  hope  she  throbs,  then  curious  tries 
Some  strange  hereafter,  and  some  hidden  skie8."-iVbrriff. 

"  But  O,  if  I  am  prepared  for  such  a  change, 
how  delightful  it  will  be  to  awake  from  death-— 
to  be  immortal,  and  live  forever  ; — to  be 
among  immortals — to  renew  those  associations 
with  dear  relatives  and  friends,  which  have 
been  suspended  for  a  season.  I  can  carry  no 
tidings  thither,  for  the  affairs  of  this  word  are 
known  to  disembodied  spirits.  I  can  look 
around  me  for  relatives  and  friends,  and  those 
refined  principles  of  the  soul,  of  love  and  joy, 
will  there  be  renewed,  and  enjoyed  forever.  O, 
happy,  happy  region  of  boundless  bliss  !  There 
will  be  no  changing  then  of  time  :  it  will  be 
eternity.  O,  E-T-E-R-N-I-T-Y  !  that  dread- 
ful  pleasing  thought  !  I  shall  be  immortal  ! 
But  shall  I  possess  a  crown  of  life  ?  Here 
rests  the  awful  pause  !  A  crown  of  life  !  My 
God,  O,  thou  eternal  and  everlasting  Father  ; 
hear  thou  a  sinner's  prayer ;  lead  me  by  thy 
good  spirit,  and  so  sustain  me  in  my  course, 
that  I  may  find  my  all  in  thee,  both  in  time  and 
in  eternity." 

And  now,  before  I  conclude,  let  me  ask  the 
reader,  what  arc  thy  prospects  beyond  the 
grave  ?     O  !  what  are  thy  hopes?    Hast  thou 


LIFE    OF    W.  B.  LIGirrON. 


225 


rorrtf. 

ange, 
iath— 
to  be 
iations 

have 
ny  no 
jrd  are 
n  look 
I  those 
U  joy, 
ver.  O, 
!  There 
will  be 
t  dread- 
[nortal  ! 

Here 
/  My 
^'ather  ; 
J  by  thy 
course, 
ime  and 

aak  the 
>nd  the 
ist  thou 


a  well  grounded  hope  of  a  blessed  immortality, 
and  that  all  is  well  between  thee  and  thy  Ma- 
ker ;  or  art  thou  still  in  thy  sins,  an  enemy  to 
God  by  wicked  works  ?  If  thou  art,  is  it  not 
high  time  for  thee  to  bethink  thyself  on  thy 
condition,and  prepare  thyself  for  the  great  event 
of  thy  life.  Think,  O  think,  how  soon  thou 
wilt  have  to  lenve  this  short,  transitory  scene 
of  existence  !  A  few  years,  at  the  fartherist, 
and  then  all  will  be  over  with  thee  here,  and 
then  thou  must  appear  a  naked,  unembodicd 
spirit,  at  the  awful  bar  of  the  august  Majesty 
of  heaven,  to  answer  for  thy  conduct.  O,  let 
me  urge  thee  to  fly  to  Christ  ;  he  is  thy  only 
Saviour  and  sure  friend.  Have  faith  in  his 
merits. — Be  deeply  humble. — Live  in  view  of 
Eternity,  and  in  the  solemn  consequences  of 
that  vast  and  trying  scene.  Remember  that  if 
you  neglect  to  walk  in  the  commands  of  God 
you  will  be  damned  forever. 


-Be  wise,  nor  make 


Heaven's  highest  blessing  vengeance;  O  be  wise! 

Nor  make  a  curse  of  immortality  ! 

Say,  knowest  thou  what  it  is,  or  what  thou  art ; 

Knowest  thou  the  importance  of  a  soul  immortaH 

Behold  tliis  midnight  glory :  worlds  on  worlds! 

Amazing  pomp;  redouble  this  amaze  ! 

Ton  thousand  add ;  add  twice  ten  thousand  more ; 

Then  weigh  die  whole ;  one  soul  outweighs  tliem  all» 

And  calls  ihe  astonishing  magnificence 

Of  unintelligent  creation  poor.' 

Let  thy  soul  bathe  itself  in  the  blessed  Sa- 
▼iour, 

21* 


226       LIFE   OF   W.  B.   LIGUTON. 


**  Sink  into  the  purple  flood, 
Rise  to  all  the  life  of  God." 

S.  jek  and  retain  his  sacred  image  in  thy  hearty 
and  live  on  him  by  holy,  conquering,  irresista- 
ble  faith  ;  and  so  shall  thou  be  saved  in  heav- 
en. 

Let  me  advise  thee  to  a  constant  and  prayer- 
ful perusal  of  the  holy  Scriptures, — acquaint 
thyself  with  them  as  thou  wouldst  thy  chart^ 
wast  thou  lost,  and  exposed  to  perilous  dangers 
on  the  boisterous  deep.  Remember  the  Bible 
is  the  star  of  eternity,  a  chart,  to  guide  thy 
frail  bark  into  the  haven  of  eternal  rest.  Make 
it  the  constant  book  of  thy  life. 

'  iVIost  wondrous  book  !  bright  candle  of  the  Lord! 
Star  of  eternity!  the  only  etar 
By  which  the  bark  of  man  could  navigate 
The  sea  of  life,  and  gain  the  coast  of  bliss 
Securely ;  only  star  which  rose  on  time. 
And,  on  its  dark  and  troubled  billows,  still 
As  generation  threw  a  ray 
Of  Heaven's  own  light,  and  to  the  hills  of  God, 
The  everlasting  hills,  pointed  the  Sinner's  eye  ! 

With  holy  faith  and  prayer, 

Read  God's  Word  once,  and  you  can  read  no  more; 
For  all  books  else  appear  so  mean,  so  poor; 
Verse  will  seem  prose;  but  still  persist  to  read. 
And  God's  Word  will  be  all  the  books  you  ueed.' 

Never  lay  it  aside  because  thou  ha^c  read  it 
over  and  over,  or  because  it  may  not  be  alto- 
gether so  congenial  with  thy  natural  views  and 
feelings  ;  but  persist  in  thy  acquaintance  with 
it,  with  sincere  prayer  to  God  that  thou  mayest 
fully  understand  it  aright. 


illC 


LIFE  OF  W.  B.  LIGHTON. 


227 


The  Holy  Scriptures  are  of  indispensible  use 
to  thee,  as  they  teach  thee  every  thing  relative 
to  thy  salvation,  and  of  thy  duty  while 
a  probationer  here  below.  Let  the  dear  read- 
er therefore, 

*<Read,  nnd  revere  the  sacred  page,  a  page 

Where  triumphs  immortality;  a  page 

Which  not  the  whole  creation  could  produce:  ' 

Which  not  the  conflagration  shall  destroy  * 

III  nature's  ruins  not  one  letter  lost." 

Our  ignorance  and  neglect  of  the  Scriptures 
is  the  prime  cause  ofsomurhin/idelity  and  irreli- 
gion  in  the  world.  Instead  of  men's  approxi- 
mating them,  and  formrng  their  lives  by  their 
unerring  authority,  <^»ey  set  up  their  own  sys- 
tems, creed*',  and  notions,  and  haggardly  warp 
them  to  *^ieir  unsanctified  designs.  May  God 
"■ran*  d<^^f  reader,  that  you,  and  I,  may  come 
to  the  light  of  God's  Word,  if  we  are  con- 
demned and  cut  off,  amen  ;  let  us  come  to  the 
truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  that  we  may  be  saved  in 
heaven. 

Christian  reader,  awake  thou  to  thy  duty  ; 
see  thou  hast  every  thing  ready,  and  in  order 
for  thy  exit  into  another  world.  Be  on  thy 
post,  and  watch  against  the  summons  of  the 
Captain  of  thy  salvation.  See  thou  maintain- 
est  family  and  secret  prayer, — and  see  that 
thou  hold  daily  communion  with  thy  Lord. 
Examine  thyself,  as  to  thy  title  to  heaven,  and 
happiness.  Dost  thou  live  every  day,  a  holy 
and  devoted  life  such  as  adorns  thy  profession  ? 
Hast  thou  Christ   formed  within  thec'the  hope 


228 


LIFE   OF  W.   B.   LIGHTON. 


of  glory?  Hast  thou  an  abiding  witness  that  thou 
art  a  child  of  God?   O  !  in  a  word,  art  thou  in 
the  strictest  sense  a  true  and  devoted  christian  i 
Answer  me  to  the  truth  of  this  question.     If 
thou  art  not,  thou  art  in  the  broad  road  to  ruin 
and  destruction  ;    and  may  God  have  mercy 
upon  thee,  and  alarm  thy  guilty  soul !    If  thou 
canst  respond  in  the  affirmative,  I  bid  thee  go 
on,with  God's  blessing;  and  may  thou, and  I,and 
the  whole   Israel   of  God,  be  so  unspeakably 
happy  as  to  be  saved  in  heaven,  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.     Amen. 
?     Now  to  the  ever-blessed  and  glorious  TRIN- 
ITY, FATHER,    WOKI),    and    SPIRIT, 
the  infinite  and  eternal  ONE,  from  whom  alone 
wisdom,  truth,  and  goodness   cau  proceed,  be 
glory  and  dominion  forever  and  evet.    Amen. 

Landaff,  JV*.  H»  September  1th,  18:3s 


hou 
u  in 
lanf 
If 
ruin 
ercy 
thou 
ego 
[,ana 
lably 
I  our 

RIN- 
RIT, 
alone 
2d,  be 
^men. 

J:)5 


